


Let Lips Do What Hands Do

by sleepwithease



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: And Super Cute, Boys In Love, Canonical Child Abuse, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Shakespeare Quotations, Theatre AU, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, graphic description of violence, honestly it got way too angsty way too fast, it's really gay, they play romeo and juliet, this is me indulging myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepwithease/pseuds/sleepwithease
Summary: Adam and Ronan get cast as Romeo and Juliet in Aglionby's school play. Fluff and feelings ensue.





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So, I did a thing. I literally couldn't get this idea out of my head. It messes with the timeline a little bit, so be warned. Most of this is going to be non-magical. It's just pure fluff. As always, leave me some comments because I LOVE talking to y'all. <3
> 
> P.S: this is going to be as short as I can possibly make it so I can start working on the companion to my other piece. If you haven't read that yet, please do!

On the first day of spring semester, Adam walked into Gershwin Hall, Aglionby’s Performing Arts Center, with the sinking feeling that his 4th period drama class was going to be unbearable.

 

As he looked around, he didn’t see anyone he even remotely knew, aside from Henry Cheng, the Aglionby theatre troupe’s fearless leader. Adam opted out of approaching Henry because he was swarmed by his fellow troupe members, who were gazing up at him like he was the sun, but he gave him a small wave as he took a seat on the back row of the bleachers. All around him, boys chattered and buzzed about their winter breaks spent basking in the tranquil beauty of a snow-covered Prague or lounging on the white-sand beaches of Rio De Janeiro with fruity drinks in their hands. Adam swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He had spent his half of his Christmas break under the hood of a broken down car and the other half tending to Cabeswater. Not for the first time that day, he distantly wondered if he would ever be like these other boys, investing in lavish vacations without batting an eye rather than breaking his back to put food on the table.

 

He was still getting lost in that thought when he spotted a familiar figure in the corner of his eyes. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes when they settled on Ronan Lynch, stiff shouldered and scowling in the doorway of the PAC. Adam was surprised by the relief he felt when he spotted Ronan, who was looking just as lost and pitiful as Adam felt.

 

“Lynch!” Adam called out, cupping his hands around his mouth so the sound reached the tattooed boy. Ronan’s eyes snapped toward Adam and his scowl crumpled into a relieved wince as he climbed the bleachers.

 

“Parrish, thank fuck,” Ronan huffed as he collapsed into the seat next to Adam, splaying his tall, lanky body across the bleachers with abandon. “I’ve never been so happy to see your ugly mug.”

 

“What are you doing in drama class?” Adam smirked, ignoring Ronan’s half-assed jab. “I never would have pegged you for a thespian.”

 

“Fuck off,” Ronan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s this whole Monmouth mess that Gansey got himself into. He and Declan made a deal with Headmaster Child that if I got all B’s this semester, paid under the table for some new library books and took this stupid drama course that no one wants to fucking be in, he’d give Monmouth back to Gansey and I could still graduate.”

 

“You got yourself into that one,” Adam reminded him lightly, earning a glare from Ronan.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know. I’m dealing with it,” Ronan huffed. He flicked his gaze to Adam then, his blue eyes trailing down Adam’s slim form in a way he was hiding less and less these days. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I need some extra-curricular courses to pad my college apps and everything else was full,” Adam shrugged, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I figured painting some sets and watching Henry parade around like a jackass wouldn’t be so bad.”

 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Ronan muttered, nodding his head towards Henry, who was now taking the stage with a microphone in his hand, even though he was only speaking to about 25 people.

 

“Gentlemen, welcome to Aglionby Academy’s annual spring theatre cohort,” Henry said grandly, earning enthusiastic applause from his fellow troupe members and little more than a light tapping of hands from everyone else. Ronan and Adam refrained from clapping of any sort. “Every spring, Aglionby puts on a one-night-only performance for students, faculty and Aglionby’s generous donors in order to present the immense talent of our performers and directors alike. If you are in this class, congratulations, you are in the cast of this spring’s play!”

 

“Oh, fuck no,” Ronan growled, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “I did not sign up for this shit.”

 

“Shhh, Ronan,” Adam hushed, ignoring the feeling of dread that was creeping up his back.

 

“I have the immense pleasure to introduce to you Mr. Simons, our guest director and a Broadway veteran,” Henry cried, gesturing to the bored-looking man who was sitting in a director’s chair in the corner ignoring the applause that was given to him. “I am also pleased to announce that this year, we will be performing the great Shakespearean classic, Romeo and Juliet!”

 

This statement was not met with applause, but rather an unsettling silence as the occupants of the room, all boys, looked around at each other. Even Cheng’s groupies looked confused by this declaration. After a beat of silence, Ronan spoke the words that were on the tongues of nearly every boy in the room.

 

“Don’t you need chicks for that show?” Ronan asked, quirking one dark eyebrow at Henry.

 

Henry turned his eyes to Ronan and his mouth settled into a disappointed from.

 

“Oh, Lynch, you’re too eloquent for your own good,” Henry sighed dramatically. “No, we will not be needing ‘chicks’ for this production. In Shakespeare’s time, men played both male and female roles. In dedication to the bard, we will be doing the same.”

 

Adam and Ronan shared a look with each other. Then, they both burst into fits of delighted and horrified fits of laughter.

 

Henry was not as amused. “Something funny?”

 

“Yeah, something is very, very funny,” Ronan snickered. “You are out of your goddamn mind if you think anyone in here is going to willingly put on a dress and profess their love to a dude in front of the whole school.”

 

“If they want the credit for this class, they will,” Henry said tensely, propping his hands on his hips. “And a little birdy tells me you need this class to get out of here, Lynch, so If I were you, I’d figure out what size dress you wear and shave those pretty legs of yours.”

 

“Henry,” Adam said seriously, suddenly realizing that Henry wasn’t actually fucking with them. “I think maybe-”

 

“Adam, truly, I expected more from you,” Henry sighed, turning to everyone else once he successfully made Adam shrink in his chair. “Everyone better get used to the idea of this because we ordered the scripts and the show has been announced to the donors. It’s done.”

 

Chaos broke out amongst the boys. This was insane. They would all be the laughing stock of Henrietta, a difficult feat in itself, as well as among the rich and powerful elite of the entire Virginia area.

 

“Oh, and one more thing,” Henry announced after he had passed out the audition sides. Henry turned a sly smirk on Adam and Ronan, a sight that would have any living creature shaking in their boots. “Auditions are tomorrow in class and you better make them good. I’ll be casting the show.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Fuck Cheng,” Ronan growled, practically ripping the tie from his neck as he, Adam and Gansey made their way to the pig. “If he thinks I’m putting on a dress and a wig just to run around a stage and profess my love for one of his dumbass theatre groupies, he’s got another goddamn thing coming.”

 

“Why Romeo and Juliet?” Adam asked, not bothering to hide his disdain. “I mean, it’s an all-boys school. Did that just slip his mind?”

 

“I’m sure Henry has his reasons for choosing that show,” said Gansey as they ducked into the pig.

 

“Careful, dick, your bias is showing,” Ronan warned lowly, slumping in his seat as the pig roared to life. Gansey rolled his eyes with no lack of dramatics.

 

“Oh, please, Ronan,” he sighed. “If there’s anyone here who I’m biased towards, it’s arguably you two.”  


Ronan slapped a hand over his heart, feigning a swoon as he caught Adam’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “Parrish, did you hear that? We won the favor of sir Richard Campbell Gansey the third!”

 

Adam, being in a rather spritely mood on his only day off that week, took Ronan’s bait without hesitation. “Oh, however will we thank him for the gift of his affections?”

 

“You can start by shutting the hell up,” Gansey quipped, rolling his big brown eyes in fond annoyance as his two best friends cackled. Because he was a good friend, Gansey pretended not to notice the fondness in their eyes as they grinned at each other or the way Ronan elbowed Adam playfully, his arm lingering over the other boy’s skin for a second too long. However, just because he was a good friend didn’t mean he wouldn’t take the chance to be an asshole. “I don’t know. You guys seem to be more theatrically talented than you give yourselves credit for. Maybe the arts are your calling?”

 

Ronan barked a laugh at this. “The only thing calling me is pizza. I could answer that call if you didn’t drive like my fucking great-grandmother.”

 

Ninos was nearly empty when they arrived because, as it turns out, pizza is not very in-demand at three in the afternoon. When the door chime jingled above them, a familiar spikey-haired head popped up from behind that counter. The brightness of Gansey’s smile could have rivaled the sun.

 

“You three look like trouble,” was her opening line as she slid into their booth, plopping a pitcher of iced tea down before propping her cheek on one hand. “More so than usual.”

 

“I’m never troublesome,” Ronan drawled, earning a grin from Adam as he poured himself a glass of tea. Blue, on the other hand, rolled her eyes aggressively, turning to Gansey for a reliable answer to her previous question.

 

“Ronan and Adam have to audition for Romeo and Juliet tomorrow,” Gansey said. “An all-male version.”

 

The silence settled heavily over the table for a solid four seconds and then was promptly shattered by Blue’s giddy giggle. “Oh, this is going to be so good. Do you think you’ll have to wear tights? I bet you’ll have to wear tights.”  


“I’m not wearing tights,” Adam insisted quietly, looking at his tea like he wanted to drown in it.

 

“Not even God himself is putting me in tights,” Ronan declared. “And if God can’t, Cheng sure as hell can’t.”

 

“Hold on,” Blue gasped, grinning ear to ear. “Henry is casting this?”

 

Adam and Ronan nodded solemnly and tried not to wince as Blue collapsed into Gansey’s shoulder, rattling with her unstoppable giggling. “This is going to be amazing!”

 

“Hey, maggot, you know what would be more amazing?” Ronan inquired, his tone already biting with sarcasm. “If you got back to your job and brought us some pizza. That would just about make my fucking day.”

 

Blue leveled him with a heavy glare. “You’re no fun.”

 

“And you’re on the clock,” Ronan retorted. “Scram.”

 

Ronan was promptly gifted the finger as Blue excused herself to the kitchen, leaving behind a very disappointed Gansey, a very hungry Ronan and a very distracted Adam.

 

“What’s your damage, Parrish?” Ronan asked, poking the other boy to pull him from his reverie. Adam’s big, muddled blue eyes blinked at Ronan and, despite his efforts to keep it in check, he felt his heart slam against his ribcage as they took him in.

 

“I’m just thinking about these auditions,” Adam mumbled, picking at his chapped hands.

 

“Don’t sweat it, Parrish,” Ronan said flippantly. “Cheng’s just fucking with us. He’s not gonna risk Aglionby’s rep for a laugh.”

 

“Christ, I can’t afford to fail this stupid class,” Adam groaned, tossing an arm over his eyes. Ronan’s brows furrowed in worry, his eyes sliding to Gansey for guidance, but the other boy was staring dreamily at Blue. Figures.

 

“Calm down, Parrish, you’re not gonna fail,” Ronan huffed. “I’m coming over tonight and we’re going to look over the audition sides. Make Cheng eat his fucking words.”

 

“Really?” Adam asked, eying Ronan warily. “Why would you want to go over the sides?”

 

 _Because it would help you,_ Ronan thought, _because it might make you need me, because I love-_

“Well, I can’t very well fail the class either,” Ronan said. “Might as well give those fuckers a show.”

 

Adam seemed to ponder this for a moment, making Ronan squirm a bit under his heavy-lidded gaze. It was times like this that Ronan thought Adam had some kind of Lynch-specific x-ray vision or something. He always seemed to be able to look straight through to Ronan’s soul with those murky blue eyes that observed so much. That terrified Ronan more than he could express. There were too many feelings burning just under Ronan’s surface that he wanted to hide from Adam, just for a little while longer.

 

“Okay,” Adam shrugged agreeably, all casual. “Sure. Come by around nine?”

 

Ronan would be there by 8:58, fighting off his nerves in the BMW as he waited for the time to pass. Then, he would climb the steps and rap his knuckles against Adam’s door, hard and insistent, as if annoyed that Adam wasn’t waiting by the door for him. It was like that every time Ronan came over and they both knew it. Still, he had to maintain his bravado and pretend he couldn’t care less that Adam had invited him over, so he simply shrugged, sipped at his tea and said, “I’ll get there when I get there.”

 

* * *

 

 

The PAC was chaotic when Adam and Ronan showed up for auditions the next day during fourth period. Some boys had their noses tucked into scripts, practicing for the cold reads they were about to do, while others were smacking each other with the wooden swords Henry has procured from God knows were. Amongst the chaos was Tad Carruthers, who was a script in one hand and a sword in the other, which he was swinging around wildly, scarcely missing some freshman who had stumbled into his area. At Adam’s arrival, Tad’s head popped up and a wild grin spread across his face. Adam had no idea how Tad always seemed to know when he entered a room, but it creeped him out. He liked Tad enough, but he was like a yapping puppy who won’t stop humping your leg. After a while, you just want to kick him away.

 

“Adam!” Tad cried happily, skipping over from where he was practicing. Beside Adam, Ronan groaned. If there was anyone Tad annoyed more than Adam, it was Ronan. “Are you ready for auditions?”

 

“I guess,” Adam answered unenthusiastically. “We worked on it last night.”

 

When Tad realized that the implied “we” was Adam and Ronan, his cheerful grin was replaced by a deep, troubled frown. His eyes slid to Ronan, giving him a disdainful once-over that was readily returned by the tattooed boy.

 

“Oh, Lynch,” Tad said in a terribly practiced, unaffected voice. “Didn’t see you there. You auditioning?”

 

“Yeah, we have to, jackass,” Ronan said, sounding annoyed and haughty enough to make Adam have to bite down on a grin. “It’s required.”

 

“I just pegged you for a stagehand kind of guy,” Tad retorted, matching the level of disgust that was present in Ronan’s voice. “You know, all brawn, no brains. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself up on that stage.”

 

“Worry about yourself, Tad,” Adam sighed, pinching Ronan’s forearm to keep him grounded through the fury that was rumbling inside him.

 

“You scared, Carruthers?” Ronan challenged, stepping up into Tad’s space. To his credit, Tad only shrank back marginally.

 

“What would I have to be scared of?” Tad scoffed.

 

“Competition? Failure? Embarrassment?” Ronan said, his grin as sharp as a knife. “Something tells me Daddy Carruthers isn’t really into the arts. What’s he gonna say when he finds out that not only are you in the school play, but you’re in the ensemble? He probably won’t be in the front row with a video camera in hand, will he?”

 

Tad’s cheeks flushed an angry red, his fierce eyes flaring with a look of indignation. But as soon as his anger came, it went again and was replaced with an arrogant smirk. “Yeah, well, your Daddy doesn’t show up at all anymore, does he?”

 

Ronan surged forward, his hands curling into fists as Adam gripped his arms, pulling him back. “That’s enough, Carruthers,” Adam hissed, fighting to keep Ronan at bay. “Piss off.”

 

Henry chose that time to call everyone back to their seats. Tad shot Ronan one last smirk before skipping back to his seat. Ronan was trembling beneath Adam’s hands and tension was coiling his muscles into tight knots.

 

“Cool it, Ronan,” Adam warned lowly. “You can’t afford to get kicked out for beating up Tad Carruthers. He isn’t worth it.”

 

“I know he’s not,” Ronan growled, his eyes burning with rage and his skin burning with the desire for Adam to keep touching him. That dire was enough for Ronan to shrug Adam off in denial. “That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna teach that little shit a lesson.”

 

“Ronan-”

 

But it was too late. Ronan was already stalking toward his seat. Adam gulped. This was going to be rough.

 

Henry began pulling boys on stage and had them act out the scene he had assigned the day before, where Romeo and Juliet meet at the Capulet’s party. It was a bit of a shit show, as none of the boys were skilled actors and very few of them wanted anything to do with this play. They buried their noses in their scripts, avoiding eye contact and vocal inflection as they mechanically read from the page. Henry and the director looked like they were going to suffer a simultaneous aneurism.

 

Henry eventually turned his vengeful eyes on Adam, forcing him up to read with none other than Tad Carruthers. Tad leapt across the stage, giving an overdramatic performance as Romeo while Adam played a more reserved Juliet. Ronan watched, entranced, as Adam read off the lines with perfect inflection. His tan cheeks were tinged pink from embarrassment, but his blue eyes sparked in the spotlight. He was painfully beautiful.  Ronan was just pissed that Tad fucking Carruthers was getting to enjoy it up close and personal. His heart squeezed as Tad put his filthy hand on Adam’s cheek, leaning in to speak the intimate lines Shakespeare wrote.

 

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” Tad recited, looking longingly into Adam’s cautious eyes. Ronan wondered how much of that was acting.

 

“Ay, pilgrim,” Adam said, carefully removing Tad’s hand from his cheek. “Lips that they must use in prayer.”

 

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,” Tad gushed, placing his palm against Adam’s. Ronan’s blood pressure spiked as he watched the scene unfold. How many times had he fantasized about those hands? Now, here they were, being held by Tad Carruthers. It made Ronan sick, but he couldn’t look away. “They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

 

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake,” Adam spoke, his light, breathy voice keeping half the boys in the room on the edge of their seats and the other half crossing their legs in aroused discomfort.

 

“Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take,” Tad said as he grinned an unholy, devilish grin, flicking his eyes toward Ronan before leaning in to Adam’s space. Ronan felt his breath lodge in his throat as Tad came dangerously close to kissing Adam. However, before he could, Adam reared back in shock and stepped out of Tad’s way. Tad, unaware of Adam’s retreat, leaned all the way forward and subsequently fell on his face. These auditions were suddenly looking up for Ronan, who was roaring in laughter as Tad peeled himself off the floor.

  “That’s enough, Tad,” Henry called out, not looking up from his clipboard as he scribbled something down. Ronan was still howling at the look of horror that was rippling across Adam’s face. Henry’s head snapped toward the noise, a clear challenge in his dark eyes.

 

“Think you can do better, Lynch?” Henry asked, quirking a perfectly arched brow at Ronan.

 

“Oh, I know I can,” Ronan scoffed, narrowing his eyes at a flustered Tad. Adam was glancing between the two of them, clearly confused and distraught.

 

Henry gave a sharp nod. “Alright then,” he said. “Take it from the beginning of that scene.”

 

Ronan grandly peeled himself from his seat, nixing the stairs and hopping up onto the stage ceremoniously. He shot Tad a smirk as he passed him, purposefully knocking into him with an insincere “oops.”

 

Ronan flipped to the page in his script, awaiting further instruction from Henry. Adam caught his gaze, blue eyes boring into bluer ones with a look of confusion.

 

They seemed to say, _what are you doing?_

 

 _Just trust me_ , Ronan’s eyes urged.

 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Henry announced.

 

Now, Ronan was a man of many secrets. His dreaming, his father’s business, Cabeswater, Matthew, Adam. However, there was one secret that was buried deep within him, one he swore he would never let out to anyone.

 

Ronan Lynch was a goddamn good actor.

 

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss,” Ronan professed, his hand finding Adam’s. He brushed a thumb across the well-worn calloused as he brought the hand to his chest, trying to ignore the fact that Adam could probably feel his heart pounding. Adam looked into his eyes, not bothering to look at the lines on the page. Of course the nerd was memorized.

 

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,” Adam spoke, his lips curving into a small smile, “which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

 

Adam pulled his hand away from Ronan’s chest, only to run his long, elegant fingers down his torso before stepping away, turning his back to Ronan. Suddenly, it felt like someone had squeezed the air out of Ronan’s lungs as the world blurred around him. There was no audience of classmates watching, no haughty guest director, no Tad Carruthers. There was just this: him, Adam, two sets of trembling hands and these words, leaping off the page and into their mouths as if they had been written for the two of them to speak.

 

Ronan began to play into this game of cat and mouse, pressing himself flush against Adam’s back before saying his next line. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

 

“Ay, pilgrim,” Adam smiled coyly, turning to catch Ronan’s gaze. This suddenly felt too little like act acting and too much like flirting, “Lips that they must use in prayer.”

 

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,” Ronan purred, pressing his palm flat against Adam’s, reveling in the feeling of Adam’s hot breath against his cheek. They were both having trouble breathing. “They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

 

Adam gulped before saying his next line, his eyes traveling down to the perfect dip of Ronan’s cupid’s bow. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.”

 

Ronan’s grin was a wicked, terrifying thing, and Adam found himself longing for it. What was happening? “Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.”

 

And then, in an agonizingly slow motion, Ronan ducked to kiss Adam and the audience took in a sharp, surprised breath.

 

It wasn’t a real kiss. Ronan would never kiss Adam without permission. He used a maneuver he had learned in the fourth grade, when Aurora had forced him to audition for the school play and he had to kiss one of the girls in his class. He pressed both of his thumbs against Adam’s soft lips and placed his lips upon them, urging himself not to pull his thumbs away. He felt Adam startle slightly under his hands, but he didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to see the disgust in Adam’s cloudy blue eyes. When he finally pulled away, he kept his eyes closed, hoping to hold onto this for just a moment longer-

 

The silence among the crowd was broken by the sound of applause and both Adam and Ronan jumped at the sound. They looked into the audience to find the guest director, Mr. Simons, beaming at them as he clapped. Slowly, the rest of the audience joined him.

 

“That was amazing,” Mr. Simons gushed, grinning widely. Adam and Ronan blushed at the praise, avoiding each other’s eyes in favor of staring determinedly at the floor.

 

“Not too shabby, you two,” Henry said slyly, bouncing up from his seat to address the class. “I’m going to go make some last minute casting decisions and then I’ll post the list on the auditorium doors. Thank you to everyone who auditioned.”

 

As Mr. Simons and Henry excused themselves to the office, Ronan and Adam were met by the praise of their peers. Boys of all grade levels clapped them on the back, hailing their performance. A blush seemed to be permanently stained on both of their cheeks.

 

When the crowd dissipated, Adam pulled Ronan into an alcove and leveled him with a frustrated, but not entirely angry stare. “What was that, Lynch? Why didn’t you tell me you could act?”

 

Ronan shrugged, trying to maintain that unaffected look as he stared off into the distance. Inside, he was still pulsing with adrenaline from being so close to Adam. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

 

“You…didn’t think…it mattered…” Adam said slowly, like he was trying to figure how often Ronan had been dropped as a child.

 

Ronan rolled his eyes at him, finally meeting Adam’s confused gaze. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to teach Carruthers a lesson. I didn’t mean to get that into it.”

 

Adam processed this information, staring up at Ronan’s face as if he was searching for a lie or, at the very least, an untold truth. Finally, the tension dissipated from his pretty face and Ronan felt like he could breathe again.

 

“Well, you did,” Adam grinned, letting a chuckle slip. “Teach him a lesson, that is. I think he almost pissed himself when you fake kissed me. He was horrified.”

 

“And you?” Ronan said, trying to train his voice into nonchalance.

 

“What about me?” Adam asked, quirking an eyebrow at the crude boy.

 

“Were you horrified?” Ronan said after a beat, the smirk melting from his face. Adam thought about it. Had he been horrified? He had felt his hands start to tremble, heard the blood rushing in his good ear, noticed the acceleration of his heart, but was that fear? Or was it something else that he simply didn’t know how to name?

 

Adam never got a chance to answer Ronan, because Henry and Mr. Simons emerged from the office at that precise moment. “Cast list!” Henry called out, pushing through a crowd of excited boys to tape the list to the mental door.

 

“Ready to face our doom?” Ronan grinned, already heading towards the crowd and suddenly the tension fell away. Adam huffed a nervous breath before following him.

 

A pissed off Tad passed them, not bothering to speak to Adam as he stomped towards the boy’s bathroom.

 

“What’s his deal?” Ronan asked, raising his dark eyebrows at an equally confused Adam, who simply shrugged.

 

They found out exactly what Tad’s deal was upon glancing at the hastily written list. His name was listed next to the role of Paris at the very top of the list, and just below that, two more names. Adam and Ronan’s stomachs dropped in unison as they read them.

 

**Juliet: Adam Parrish**

**Romeo: Ronan Lynch**

 

 

 

 


	2. Act Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rehearsals start and Adam meets his match.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how long this took. It's finals time. I hope you enjoy this! I loved writing it. Y'all have been so encouraging and it is lifting me up so much. Thank you thank you THANK YOU! Please leave me comments and tell me what you thought of this chapter! xx

Adam Parrish was not one to run away from challenges; in fact, he often ran towards them, which was fortunate because his whole life seemed to be one seemingly unconquerable challenge after another, thrown at him rapidly and mercilessly. Nonetheless, Adam kept his head high. He faced his father and got out of his nightmare trailer. He worked two jobs in order to pay his way through life and support himself. He got straight A’s and was set for the Ivy League life after graduation. When it came to facing challenges, no one had as much experience or skill as Adam did…except maybe Ronan Lynch, who had known his own share of complications throughout his life. From his dreaming, to the death of the ones he loved, to the disintegration of his family and the fucking creatures that leapt from his mind with the intent to kill him, he was not a stranger to challenges; he bared his teeth at them and dared them to fuck with him. Alone, they handled challenges well but together they were an unholy force, a unit that made any measly challenge tremble.

 

However, neither of them were quite equipped enough to handle the biggest challenge of all: Henry Cheng.

 

“Please, Henry,” Adam begged, pleading with the man who was hastily scribbling in his script.

 

“No,” Henry said in his most un-henry monotone voice.

 

“Look Cheng, we don’t want to be in your fucking play,” Ronan growled from over Adam’s shoulder. “That audition was just a stupid joke to get Tad riled up.” Once again, Henry didn’t so much as lift his head to meet their terrified eyes.

 

“Well, I’m sorry about that,” Henry shrugged unapologetically, “but you’re cast now, there’s nothing I can do.”

 

“Oh, bullshit,” Ronan hissed.

 

“Henry, I don’t have time to-”

 

“Enough!” Henry snapped, slamming his script on the floor with a silencing smack that made both Ronan and Adam jump. “You two auditioned. And joke or no joke, you auditioned well. You got the parts. You’re playing the parts. If I hear another word about it, you’ll both fail this class. Do you want that?”

 

“No!” Ronan and Adam yelped in unison. This, at least, seemed to please Henry.

 

“Good,” the boy smiled. “Rehearsals start on Monday.”

 

As Henry walked off towards the double doors, Adam and Ronan shared a look of pure dread. What had they gotten themselves into?

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh Christ,” Gansey groaned, pulling the wireframes from the bridge of his nose so Adam and Ronan could see the full extent of his exasperation. “What have you two gotten yourselves into this time?”

 

“Yeah,” Noah chirped, startling all three boys as he materialized.

 

“Jesus fuck, Noah,” Ronan panted. “Stop that shit.”

 

“You guys look like someone died,” Noah grinned, allowing a moment for his tasteless joke to settle before tacking on, “and recently, too.”

 

“We got cast in Henry’s play,” Adam moaned forlornly, dropping into the leather armchair without bothering to clear away the laundry piled in messy stacks on top of it. Ronan tossed himself sidelong across the sofa, throwing an arm over his eyes.

 

“Oh! I almost forgot about that,” Gansey said cheerily.

 

“Lucky you,” Ronan groaned.

 

“I used to love Shakespeare! I always wanted to play Macbeth.” Noah announced grandly, hopping up on the coffee table and stretching out his hand, a look of pretend seriousness glazing over his smudgy features. _“Is this a dagger which I see before me, the handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.”_

 

“Stick to your day job,” Ronan quipped from the couch, groaning when Noah leapt down from his perch on the table in retaliation and landed on top of him.

 

The front door swung open then, revealing a very fatigued Blue Sargent. She stomped over to where they all sat, ignoring the chorus of hellos in favor of plopping herself down in Gansey’s lap, burying her nose in the crook of his neck and heaving a dramatic sigh. Gansey tried not to look too pleased with her choice in seating as he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek to her deflated hair.

 

“Rough day, sunshine?” Noah asked, perching on the arm of Gansey’s chair to tweak one of Blue’s pigtails.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she grunted. The boys all shared a look. Ever since the death of Persephone, Blue had been on a rollercoaster of emotions. One minute she was the vibrant, fierce Blue they all adored, the next she was drowning in Grief. Ronan and Adam caught each other’s gaze and silently communicated in that weird, creepy was they always tended to. They had both known grief and they both loved Blue, so they would sacrifice.

 

“We have something that might change that,” Adam said, drawing the disgruntled girl out of her hiding place in Gansey’s neck. She quirked an eyebrow at Ronan and Adam, as if doubting that anything they could say would change her mood.

 

Ronan lifted his hips off the couch to dig through the back pocket of his chinos, procuring a crumpled piece of paper. He begrudgingly handed it to Blue, who eyed it warily. However, upon glancing over it, her features smoothed over into a look of perfect blankness. She lifted her gaze from the paper, blinking at the two boys who were sitting across from her, their chins ducked in shame, and burst in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Gansey took the paper from her as she gasped for breath between fits of laughter and, upon reading, collapsed into blue, shaking with the same laughter.

 

“What? What is it?” Noah demanded, snatching the crumpled list from Gansey’s hands. His blue eyes scanned it for a fraction of the time Blue’s and Gansey’s did before he began to shriek with laughter. The only ones left unamused were Adam and Ronan, who were sitting grumpily across from each other with the same annoyed expression rippling across their faces.

 

“This! Is! Too! Much!” Blue gasped, tears of laughter pouring down her face.

 

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Ronan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “This is a bit heteronormative of you, isn’t it, Maggot? Laughing at two boys who have to play lovers in a play? Some social justice warrior you are.”

 

This sent them all into another fit of laughter.

 

“It’s not because y’all are boys, idiot,” Blue said once they had somewhat composed themselves. “It’s because you’re Adam and Ronan.”

 

“Adam, can I do your makeup for the play?” Noah asked, bouncing up and down in sudden excitement.

 

“No,” Adam said sternly. “I’m not wearing makeup. It’s bad enough I have to wear a dress.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Gansey snorted. “Try getting that whole ‘no makeup’ thing past Henry.”

 

“I’m going to have to send him a thank you note for this casting choice,” Blue grinned. “Maybe a gift basket, too.”

 

“We could probably persuade him to let us sit in on a rehearsal or two,” Gansey whispered conspiratorially to Blue, who gasped in delight.

 

“Alright, enough,” Adam said, his words lacking a convincing amount of heat as he got up from the armchair and shrugged his jacket and messenger bag on. “I’m going to work. Ronan, enjoy the questionnaire portion of their field day.”

 

“Fuck you,” Ronan huffed, jumping up from his spot. “I’ll walk you out.”

 

They made their way downstairs, pointedly ignoring the obnoxious kissing sounds their friends were making as they shut the door behind them. The January air was bitter cold and Ronan was jacketless, so he wanted to make this conversation quick.

 

“Are you okay?” Ronan asked. “I mean, with the whole Juliet thing.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Adam shrugged. “I’m just…”

 

“What?” Ronan asked, his stomach swooping in anticipation. This was the moment when Adam told Ronan he didn’t want to play Juliet because the thought of kissing another dude repulsed him. He braced for impact, knowing the words would hurt regardless.

 

“I’m worried my dad will find out somehow,” Adam muttered, fixing his gaze on his shoes. “I mean, I know that’s stupid because of the restraining order. Besides, he keeps his nose out of Aglionby anyway, but I’m just…worried.”

 

That was not what Ronan was expecting.

 

“Don’t be worried, Parrish. He’s not going to find out,” Ronan said, “and if he does, we’ll deal with it. Don’t lose sleep over that piece of shit.”

 

“You’re one to talk about losing sleep,” Adam smirked. Ronan was once again struck by how lovey Adam was and felt blood rushing to his cheeks, amongst other places.

 

“Go to work, dumbass,” He huffed, turning his head to avoid Adam’s gaze.

 

“Are you coming over tonight?” Adam asked, walking backwards towards the shit mobile.

 

“Probably,” Ronan shrugged noncommittally, which meant he definitely was. Adam grinned as he ducked into the driver’s seat, leaning out of the open window as he cranked the engine.

 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” Adam drawled sarcastically, earning an eye roll so aggressive it could have strained something.

 

“Fuck right off,” Ronan said, flicking Adam off as he began to back out of the parking lot. Ronan watched him go, suddenly feeling warm despite the weather. When Ronan shuffled back into the heat of Monmouth, Gansey and Blue had disappeared and Noah was sitting cross-legged on the pool table, fixing Ronan with his eerie, knowing look.

 

“Where’s the maggot and Dick?” Ronan asked, stuffing his fists in his pockets self-consciously.

 

“They’re in the kitchen making tea,” Noah said, the liveliness that had been in his voice before suddenly replaced by something more somber. “Ronan, is this a good idea? You and Adam playing lovers?”

 

Sometimes, Ronan hated how much Noah knew about him. Ronan was someone who liked to keep all of his secrets close, guarding them from discovery, but that didn’t work with Noah. He knew all of them better than they knew themselves. Ronan hated it, but then, sometimes, it felt nice to confide in someone who wouldn’t judge him. So he said, “probably not.”

 

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Noah sighed.

 

“I don’t have a choice. Henry is going to make sure I fail if I don’t go through with this,” Ronan shrugged, avoiding Noah’s heavy gaze.

 

“Are you sure that’s the only reason you’re doing this?” Noah asked.

 

“God, Noah,” Ronan snapped, making his way towards his bedroom. “You already know the answer, so why do you ask?”

 

Ronan was almost to his bedroom door when he felt cool fingers wrap around his wrist. He looked back to find Noah with an uncharacteristically serious look in his dull, faded eyes. Ronan at once felt bad for snapping. Noah cared about him. Why couldn’t Ronan let anyone care about him?

 

“Just…” Noah sighed, “protect your heart, Ronan. Adam isn't ready yet. Don’t hurt yourself more than you have to.”

 

Ronan didn’t know how to react to that, but there was a lump quickly forming in his throat and he needed to _go, go, go._ “Jesus, alright,” Ronan huffed, tugging his wrist out of Noah’s grip and slamming his bedroom door behind him. He pressed his back to the cool wood, trying to fight off the wave of emotion that was attacking him. God, he needed to pull it together. He could do this. He had to do this.

 

Ronan shucked off his clothes, went to his closet and tossed them in his hamper, swapping them out for some sweats and a tank top. The shirts caught his eye before he had the chance to look away. They were overflowing from the box he kept hidden in the shadowed corner of the closet. There were hundreds of them, all faded and worn with the same, miniscule rip in the shoulder seam. A red Coca-Cola shirt. A whisper of a secret he wasn’t ready to take out of his closet. He gripped the fabric in his hands, closed his eyes and breathed in the familiar scent of gasoline and earth, so undeniably Adam that it made his mouth water.

 

What had he gotten himself into?

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first rehearsal was, as predicted, a complete disaster.

 

Boys were running around whacking each other in the ribs with those giant, wooden practice swords when Adam walked in. He ducked just in time to avoid a head-on collision with the blade of one and was about to inform the owner of the sword that it was dangerous to be swinging planks of wood around when he saw Henry, bent over a freshman who was bleeding profusely from his nose, and figured they’d already been warned and were just refusing to heed the warning.

 

 _Heathens_ , Adam thought in a voice that sounded like Ronan’s.

 

Then, as if conjured from his mind, Adam heard a familiar, boisterous laugh ringing in his ear and whipped around to find the owner of it. His eyes locked on Ronan who was, much to Adam’s surprise, smiling at a blonde boy whose back was facing Adam. It was a real Ronan smile, something that felt so intimate and special that Adam bristled at the thought of it being given away to a complete stranger. He promptly felt ridiculous. Why would he care who Ronan smiled at as long as he was smiling? Where was this sudden, irrational jealousy coming from?

 

He walked Ronan’s way, careful not to disturb the animated conversation Ronan was having, but as soon as he got within Ronan’s peripheral vision, the sharp boy’s head snapped up and his blue eyes met Adam’s.

 

“About goddamn time you got here, Parrish,” Ronan said, his true smiling morphing into his more sinister shark-toothed grin. Adam felt the loss in his bones.

 

“I had to stay late in the science lab,” Adam shrugged, all casual, plopping himself down next to Ronan, possibly closer than strictly necessary.

 

“Nerd,” Ronan said, turning his gaze to the other boy. “Parrish, this is J.C. He used to go to church with us. Parrish lives above Saint Agnes now.”

 

Adam let his eyes fall on the boy and was perplexed to find he was, disappointingly, very attractive. Blonde hair, bottle-green eyes, tall and muscular with a glimmering earing in his left earlobe. He was, perhaps, Ronan’s other half, and it sickened Adam.

 

“Ah, yes, the infamous Adam Parrish,” J.C. grinned, sticking his palm out towards Adam, who took it with only marginal hesitation. “Gansey has told me all about you.”

 

“You know Gansey?” Adam asked, which was a stupid question because everyone knew Gansey.

 

“We used to row together,” J.C. shrugged.

 

“Used to?”

 

“I got kicked off the team last year. Something about anger management issues…” J.C. said, earning a snort from Ronan. Adam felt his muscles tense.

 

“J.C. used to hang with Gansey and I sometimes,” Ronan added, throwing an affectionate look at J.C.

 

“Better times have never been had,” J.C. grinned before turning his gaze on Adam. He quirked one dark eyebrow at Adam, his eyes narrowing and his lips curving upwards in mischief. “Hey, aren’t you that kid who’s here on scholarship?”

 

And just like that, Adam hated him.

 

To his credit, J.C. didn’t break away from Adam’s judgmental stare. The two stayed locked in a battle of wills, J.C. grinning like a Cheshire cat and Adam glaring slightly with one fair eyebrow raised in challenge. Ronan must have noticed the tight, begrudging smile slide off Adam’s face because just as Adam was about to spit a backhanded comment at J.C., Ronan elbowed the blonde boy and fixed him with a warning stare.

 

“Don’t be a dick, J.C.,” Ronan said, trying to break the tension with his most amiable smirk. It wasn’t working.

 

“Was I being a dick?” J.C. asked, feigning ignorance. He turned his wide green eyes on Adam, who was contemplating scratching them out. “Sorry, dude. I meant no offense.”

 

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Adam said coolly.

 

“Alright, everyone, let’s get started!” Henry announced, jumping on stage to usher the boys who were fucking around in the wings back to their seats.

 

“I’ll catch you guys later,” J.C. grinned, brushing past Adam a little to roughly on his way back to his seat. When Adam turned, J.C. gave him a playful wink. “So good to meet you, Parrish.”

 

Adam watched him go, his eyes narrowing into slits. J.C. had thoroughly unnerved him. He would like to be able to blame it solely on his arrogance, but that wasn’t quite it. Adam would have to examine the queasy feeling that twisted his gut when Ronan smiled at the other boy. That analysis would have to wait because Henry was about to pull his perfectly styled hair right out of his head in frustration.

 

Rehearsal was a mess of fumbled blocking and noses in scripts. Apparently, Henry hadn’t taken into account how awkward pubescent boys could be. Adam sat out for most of the rehearsal, as they only got half-way through the first few scenes before the bell rang. Adam did his homework in the second row, glancing up every once in a while to watch Ronan saying his lines. It took him some time to get the blocking, and there was no shortage of eye-rolls, but once he got the hang of it, he was otherworldly. A week ago, Adam had no idea that Ronan had ever even been in a theatre and yet, here he was, acting like he had been doing it since birth. It seemed strange to Adam that he had known Ronan for years now and he was still surprising him.

 

The bell rang just as they were moving on to Adam’s scene, saving him from joining in on the awkward fumbling of lines and blocking. Henry cast him a pointed look. I’ll get you next time, it seemed to say.

 

“Nice job up there, Lynch,” J.C. hollered to Ronan as the tall, tattooed boy hopped off the edge without ceremony. Ronan shrugged, scratching shyly at the back of his scalp. Adam watched the exchange, trying to untie the knots in his stomach. This wasn’t right. He couldn’t explain why, it just…wasn’t. “Hey, a few buddies and I are headed to Ninos tonight and then maybe out to find some trouble…wanna come with?”

 

Adam braced himself. This script sounded awfully familiar. If Adam closed his eyes, the boy almost sounded like a certain Bulgarian dreamer who had a fondness for trouble. Gansey would be incredibly upset with Adam if he let Ronan fall back into his destructive way. Adam would be upset with himself. Thankfully, before Adam could intervene, Ronan’s face scrunched up, apology written in the lines of his forehead. “Sorry, man. I’m hanging with Parrish tonight. Maybe some other time.”

 

J.C. seemed to bristle slightly, his grin slipping at the corners, but as soon as the small frown was there, it was gone again. “No worries, man. Have fun with your leading lady. You know who to call if you change your mind.”

 

 _He won’t_ , Adam thought pettily. He would have felt a little bad about it if it wasn’t the absolute truth.

 

Ronan caught up with Adam just outside the Pac and Adam couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. Ronan, ever observant, caught it out of the corner of his eye and narrowed his eyes playfully at him. “What’s got you so cheerful?”

 

“Oh, nothing,” Adam said slyly as they entered Borden House. “So, you’re coming over tonight, right? After that rehearsal, I think we’re gonna need all the practice we can get.”

 

“Speak for yourself, Parrish. I’m magnificent,” Ronan quipped dryly, fighting off his smirk for only a few moments before letting it spread across his face. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

 

“Cool,” Adam said, feigning disinterest as he broke off to head down the hallway opposite from the hall Ronan was going down. “I guess I’ll see you then.”

 

Ronan quirked a dark brown at him, his lips quirking in amusement. “I guess you will.”

 

Before Adam went to his math class, he ducked into the boys bathroom and locked himself in a stall, trying to calm his beating heart. What the hell was happening to him? Why was he suddenly so concerned with what Ronan was doing and who he was doing it with? It was this goddamn show. It was messing with his head.

 

Adam went to the sink and splashed water on his face, trying to shock him out of this strange, clingy state he was in. It barely worked and left him wet and uncomfortable. He looked up into the mirror, saw his face in the reflection, dripping wet and red at the cheeks. He looked lively, flushed…he was _blushing._

 

What had he gotten himself into?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan showed up at 9:30 with a pizza in one hand and a 2-liter of Coke in the other. Adam tried to fight with him about it, but the loud grumbling of his empty stomach won the battle for Ronan. Adam ate the hot, cheesy pizza with a fair amount of frustration. He’d get Ronan next time.

After eating, they went over a few scenes, including the scene they read for auditions. It was easy to get around that one, as they had some practice. They performed it with the same blocking they had come up with the other day, standing skin-to-skin as they repeated the lines, but when it came time to lean in form the kiss, Ronan reared back as it Adam had spit in his eye.

 

“That’s enough for tonight,” Ronan announced, heading over to Adam’s bed. Adam stood there, stunned for a moment before heading to the bathroom to quietly change into his pajamas.

 

When he emerged, Ronan was laying on his expertly made pallet on the floor, his headphones blasting music from where they hung around his neck. He smiled softly at Adam as the boy collapsed into his own bed, groaning with relief as his bones began to sink into the lumpy padding.

 

“You’re such an old man,” Ronan laughed. Adam pulled the pillow from behind his head and smacked Ronan with it, earning an indignant squawk. Adam rolled over onto his side, facing the smudged window. The moonlight was shining down onto his skin, illuminating it in a blue glow. Ronan peered over the edge of the bed, gulping when he saw how ethereal Adam looked. He fell back onto the hard pallet and squeezed his eyes shut, knowing if he looked at Adam for too long he would do something he’d regret.

 

Just when Ronan was on the cusp of seep, Adam said, “What’s with that J.C. guy?”

 

“He’s the heir of an oil tycoon. Stupidly rich, which is good because he’s pretty stupid. He’ll live off his inheritance forever,” Ronan said. “He’s a lot of fun, though.”

 

“He’s kind of…”

 

“An asshole?” Ronan guessed.

 

“You said it, not me,” Adam pointed out.

 

“Yeah, he is, but so am I,” Ronan said. “So are you.”

 

“Shut up,” Adam laughed, the bell-like sound echoing off the walls of the shoddy little apartment. Ronan closed his eyes and basked in it. He wanted to bottle that sound, keep it for the nights when he woke up bleeding and alone in the darkness. “Do you think this show is gonna suck?”

 

“I don’t know,” Ronan said. “It was the potential to be fun.”

 

“How so?” Adam asked.

 

 _Because I’ll be doing it with you,_ Ronan thought.

 

“Maybe Cheng’s head will actually explode one of these days,” Ronan said, earning that laugh again. He fell asleep to the sound of it, warm despite the chill of the unheated room.

 

Once Adam heard Ronan’s breathing even out, he leaned over the side of the bed and watched his bare chest rise and fall. The blue moonlight highlighted his sharp facial features, which made him look harsh and frightening in the light of day but now, in the dark of the evening, made him look soft, angelic…beautiful. That was the right word.

 

Adam fell back on the bed, closed his eyes and tried to will away whatever was happening to him. He had to get rid of this feeling. He couldn’t ruin their friendship. He couldn’t lose Ronan to this. He wouldn’t.

 

But as he fell into unconsciousness, the image of Ronan’s smile was flashing behind his eyelids and he fell into a dream of hands and lips and tattoos that curved to make the shape of claws and beaks and vines. Beside him, Ronan was dreaming of the same thing.

 

They had no idea what they had gotten themselves into.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobbing* THEY'RE SO IN LOVE
> 
> Thank you guys for reading! Leave me some comments below! xx


	3. Act Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feelings are felt and people say things they don't mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, y'all. Time got away from me and for some reason, this chapter was so hard to write. Please don't be mad at me. In a bid for your forgiveness, I've added an extra thousand words to this chapter. It gets angsty. Enjoy.

Adam was really trying to hate being in the play.

 

He tried to convince himself that the play was dumb and outdated. He let himself imagine all of the awful things his peers would say when he pranced around in a dress in front of them. He reminded himself that it was stealing all of his free time, between the occasional after school rehearsals and the late night practices with Ronan. Of course, it was getting increasingly hard for him to hate those. He wanted to hate it. He wanted to hate all of it.

 

But Adam loved it. He really, really loved it.

 

It caught him by surprise. The first few weeks of rehearsals were disastrous and for a while, it seemed like the show was simply doomed to crash and burn. Then, slowly but surely, things began to improve. People were learning their lines. The blocking was becoming second nature. The awkward boys no longer looked like they were constipated on stage. Henry was less tempted to pull out every hair in his head. Suddenly, there was hope for this show. It was buzzing under the skin of every boy in the auditorium as they watched Adam perform.

 

“O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name,” Adam recited from his perch on the rolling ladder they were using as a makeshift balcony. “Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

 

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?” Ronan’s voice sounded from below him. The low rasp paired with Shakespeare’s words was doing something strange to Adam’s insides.

 

 _No, stop that,_ Adam chided his traitorous body, _he’s your best friend for fuck’s sake._

 

“Tis but thy name that is my enemy. Thou art thyself, though not a Montague,” came Adam’s breathy reply. The boys in the audience watched, spellbound, as his beautiful face twisted in agony that looked too real to be fake. “What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man.

 

“O, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet,” Adam sighed prettily. “So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name, which is no part of thee take all myself.”

 

The entire auditorium was pin-drop silent for a moment and then another moment and then another. Adam racked his brain for a line he could have missed. Take all myself…that was it, wasn’t it? Adam was usually spot on with his lines.

 

He was about to call for line when Henry cleared his throat, shattering the silence as he peered up from his script. “Lynch.”

 

“Huh?” Ronan grunted eloquently from below Adam. Adam looked down to see Ronan’s distant, glossy blue eyes were locked on him, his plump lips slightly parted.

 

“It’s your line,” Henry smirked. This snapped Ronan out of his daydream. He violently shook his head, as if to shake away his thoughts, and pulled the rolled up script from his back pocket. His cheeks were turning an alarming shade of crimson as he hastily flipped through the pages, so Henry took pity on him. “Don’t bother, Lynch. We’re done for the day. Nice job, Adam.”

 

“Thanks, Henry,” Adam said, trying not to blush under the praise as he descended the ladder. A group of freshmen came galloping across the stage, horsing around as freshmen boys do. Before Adam could tell them to stop or warn them about the collision course they were on, one of them slammed into the base of the ladder. Adam scrambled to hold onto something, to find any kind of purchase, but the ladder had no rails.

 

“Adam!” Henry’s voice rang out in a cry of warning, but he was already falling.

 

The fall was in slow motion. Adam felt his feet leave the step, heard the harsh inhale of gasps and a few belated warning shouts, sensed the floor rising to meet him. He closed his eyes, braced for impact, hoping the injuries wouldn’t be major. He couldn’t afford a hospital bill.

 

The blow was softer than he anticipated, a mere collision of limbs. Did he fall onto someone? He still hadn’t opened his eyes, he couldn’t. He was frozen in shock. He felt hot breath hitting his neck. Who did he fall onto?

 

No, not onto. Into. The unfamiliar feeling of arms wrapped around him grounded him enough to shake himself of the paralyzing shock.

 

Adam pried his eyelids open to meet a familiar set of wide, ice-blue irises. Adam registered strong arms tucked under his knees and back. Ronan was holding him like some sort of damsel in distress, panting like he’d just been running the mile in gym. Ronan had caught him in mid-air, and he had ran to do so.

 

For a moment, the world slowed down and Adam was paralyzed by those blue eyes, so full of worry and fear and something else he couldn’t quite place. Their faces were mere inches from each other, their hot breath mingling between them. That fire that had been kindling inside him for weeks now roared and Adam was _burning._

 

“Fuck, Parrish,” Ronan cursed. “Are you alright?”

 

Adam could only dumbly nod.

 

The world came back to him all at once. Suddenly, people were clambering onto the stage, the other actors were gathering around and the boys who had knocked into him were rushing up to apologize to him as Ronan set him on his feet.

 

“Adam, we’re so sorry-” one of the freshmen, Julien, gushed as a crowd gathered around them.

 

“Watch where you’re fucking going next time,” Ronan growled, stalking off towards the wings. What was his problem?

 

The freshman looked sufficiently chastened, and as much as Adam wanted to be pissed, he couldn’t find it in him. All of his focus was on the dark, shadowed figure standing stiffly in the wings, hunched shoulders rising and falling.

 

“Really, Adam, I’m so sorry,” Julien said remorsefully.

 

“It’s alright,” Adam sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was starting to feel overwhelmed by the mass of boys crowding him. Thankfully, the ever-observant Henry Cheng came to his rescue.

 

“Alright, everybody, give the man some space!’ Henry hollered. Apparently, this command did not apply to Tad Carruthers.

 

“Oh God, Adam, are you okay?” Tad fussed, placing two clammy hands on Adam’s shoulders. Adam fought the urge to shrug him off. Tad turned back to Julien, a murderous glare on his face. “You’re lucky he didn’t break something. You’d have a lawsuit on your hands.”  


“That’s not true,” Adam scoffed, trying to ease the frightened tension from Julien’s face. “Julien, seriously, I’m fine. I’m clumsy, too.”

 

“Clumsy? I’m sorry, Adam, that was not clumsiness. That was recklessness. And as my father always says-”

 

“Tad.” Adam cut the rambling boy off firmly, peeling his sweaty hands off his shoulders with a fair amount of trouble. “Stop. I’m okay. Not a scratch on me.”

 

“It’s crazy that Ronan was there to catch you like that,” said one of the senior boys. Adam recognized him from his biology lab…Marcus. That was his name. “I’ve only ever seen that shit in movies.”

 

“Yeah, Lynch is always there. Isn’t he?” Tad grunted, his face pinching hideously.

 

“Yo, Parrish!” Ronan’s rough voice called from the audience, where he was waiting with his backpack slung lazily over his shoulder. His eyes were bored and indifferent, as if the fall had never happened. Adam felt dizzy from his mood swings. “You coming or what?”

 

“Yeah!” Adam called back, picking his script up from where it had fallen on the floor. “See ya, guys.”

 

The pair walked to the parking lot in comfortable but heavy silence. Ronan was looking straight ahead, his strong jaw set stubbornly. Adam thought about trailing kisses along that taut line of sharp bone and immediately wanted to throw himself in front of a car after realizing he was thinking about it. This had to stop. Adam had to get a hold of himself. He couldn’t lose Ronan to his stupid, irrational feelings. He couldn’t lose Ronan.

 

“Thank you,” Adam said as an afterthought, the sudden sound relieving some of the tension. “You know, for catching me.”

 

“I was there,” Ronan shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. To Adam, it looked like disinterest, but it was quite the opposite. After feeling Adam’s weight in his arms, his hands brushing a sliver of bare skin on Adam’s waist, his hot breath on his face, Ronan had just barely kept himself from becoming aroused. He had to stand in the dark wings for a moment thinking about night terrors and a naked Mrs. Gansey in order to gain control of himself. Another part of it was the irrational fear he had felt. It wasn’t a tall ladder by any means, and a fall from it might result in a broken wrist at most, but the moments when he was watching Adam filled him with the sickest sense of dread. He had been running to catch him before his brain even registered that he was moving. He knew, distantly, that there was a word for what he felt for Adam, but he couldn’t say it or even think it. He felt sick with himself for feeling those things, knowing if Adam had even an inkling of how he made Ronan feel, he would never look at him the same. He would never look at him, period.

 

“Yeah,” Adam said, his voice so quiet it was nearly a whisper. “You were.”

 

Ronan looked at Adam then for the first time since he caught him. Suddenly, the air was too thick, charged with a tension that was completely foreign to both of them. Adam was basking in it. He didn’t want to get in his car, go to work, leave Ronan’s orbit. He wanted to stay here, staring into Ronan’s blue eyes, knowing Ronan was staring into his too. God, when did he become such a girl?

 

“I’ll see you later, Parrish,” Ronan muttered, already walking toward his car before Adam could register his goodbye. He watched as Ronan collapsed into the driver’s seat without care, slammed the door, cranked the engine and sped out of sight. It felt like a truth that hurt too much to face.

 

Adam slumped into his car, the old peace of scrap metal rattling as he hit the driver’s seat. He could see his breath as it exited his mouth, but he couldn’t register the cold. His mind could only register one thought, a truth he hadn’t let himself acknowledge up to this point. It was heavy on his heart and he needed relief, needed to say it, needed to put it into the world so it wouldn’t take up so much space inside him.

 

 _Let it go,_ he told himself, and he did.

 

“I like Ronan,” Adam whispered to the empty car and though there was no one to hear, Adam knew he couldn’t take it back, couldn’t hide it from himself anymore.

 

To his own surprise, he found he didn’t want to.

 

* * *

 

 

They found the first flyer at Nino’s that Saturday, hanging on the announcement board for the whole town to see. In big, bold letters it read: **Starring Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch.** It took approximately three seconds for Adam to lose his mind.

 

“Oh my God,” Adam said, clutching the flyer Gansey had dropped on the table in his shaking hands. His grease-smudged face was as pale as a sheet and his muddled blue eyes were bright and bulging as he looked up at Gansey. “Are there more?”

 

Gansey, Blue and Noah shared one unified, perplexed look. Gansey went to share the look with Ronan too, but the other boy was staring down at the flyer with furrowed brows, a look of pure concern shrouding his sharp features. Gansey turned his eyes back to Adam, whose pale face had developed a green tint while Gansey wasn’t looking. “Yeah-”

“How many are there?” Adam demanded. Then, when Gansey took a moment too long to answer, Adam bolted from the table, practically sprinting towards the cluttered corkboard with Ronan on his heels.

 

Adam found the offending flyers and began to rip them from the board with a savage aggression. Tacks began to fly as he tore the papers away from their bindings and gathered the scraps in his arms.

 

“Parrish-”

 

“How long do you think these have been up here?” Adam panted as he tore another flyer down. When he turned his eyes on Ronan they were already watering. Ronan’s stomach lurched. He could brave a lot of things; watching Adam cry was not one of them.

 

“Not long,” Ronan said, aiming for reassuring and hitting just below the mark. Adam blew out a shaky breath, trying to find a way to calm himself, but he was too far gone. He could feel a nervous rash beginning to prick his skin. He forced himself to count to ten. He could not have a panic attack in the middle of Nino’s. “He probably hasn’t seen them, Parrish. How many times in your life has your father ordered a pizza from Nino’s-”

 

“If they’re here, they’re probably all over town. Henry probably has this goddamn show advertised all over Virginia,” Adam said, running trembling hands through his messy hair. Ronan didn’t know what to say. Adam had a point. “He’s going to kill me if he finds out.”

 

“No,” Ronan said, deadly serious. “He’s not. You have a restraining order-”

 

“Do you really think my dad is going to care about a restraining order when he sees this?” Adam cried, holding up a crumpled flyer. “He will kill me for embarrassing him like this. I know it.”

 

“He’s not going to touch you,” Ronan growled. “I’m not going to let him hurt you, so chill the fuck out.”

 

Adam wanted to tell Ronan he was wrong. He knew his father and if these flyers were truly all over town there was no one who could stop his dad from beating the breath out of his son. But then Adam saw the fierce protectiveness in Ronan’s cool eyes, remembered the raw rage in Ronan as he slammed his fists into Robert Parrish and he knew Ronan was right. Ronan was a bastard, a hoodlum, an asshole, but he would go to the ends of the earth to protect the people he cared about. For a moment, Adam forgot about his current problem and let himself get lost in that look in Ronan’s eyes. It was a cold, dark look and yet it made Adam feel warm and safe. How did Ronan do that? How could he make Adam feel so safe, so wanted, so _known._

 

“I know you won’t,” Adam sighed, feeling the weight on his lungs lighten as he began to breathe normally again. “I still want to go and find the rest of them. I’ll be able to sleep easier.”

 

“I’ll come with you,” Ronan said immediately, already making his way back to the booth. He snatched his leather jacket from the back of his seat and yanked it on, fishing his keys out of the pockets as well as a wrinkled twenty-dollar bill, which he dropped onto Gansey’s pizza without ceremony. “Parrish and I are taking a raincheck. Don’t wait up for me, old man.”

 

“Where are you going?” Gansey asked, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he peeled the filthy bill off of the gooey cheese.

 

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go, Parrish.”

 

“Now, just hold on-”

 

“Gansey,” Noah said, his usually buoyant tone turning uncharacteristically stern. The sound of it made all four of his friends stop in their tracks. “Let him go.”

 

Gansey paused for a moment, seeming to way his options. Noah caught Ronan’s eyes in the brief lapse of silence. The dark boy’s eyes softened gratefully, and the ghost gave him an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. Ronan was suddenly very grateful for his know-it-all friend.

 

“Be careful on the roads, Ronan,” Gansey said, the command serving as both an order and a permission. Ronan didn’t lose any time. He grabbed Adam by the arm and tugged him out of the restaurant.

 

“We should start on the south side of town, near the trailer park. We need to get them out of that area first,” Ronan said as he fell into the driver’s seat of the BMW. Adam slipped into the seat neck to him. The color was slowly returning to his face, but he still looked spooked. Without even thinking about the repercussions, Ronan placed his hand on Adam’s, holding on tightly as it shook in his grip.  “It’s going to be okay, Adam.”

 

Adam raised his eyes to meet Ronan’s, his gaze so intense it almost seemed like he was searching for something familiar there. That gaze was too heavy for Ronan to meet, so he dropped his eyes down a little lower, to the pale pink lips that filled his dreams every night. All Ronan could think about was leaning forward, closing the gap, taking that pout between hit teeth. All Adam could think was, _he called me Adam._

 

“Thank you,” Adam whispered. Ronan shook himself from his daydream and put the car in drive.

 

“Let’s get some coffee first. It’s gonna be a long night,” Ronan said as he began to pull out of the parking lot.

 

And if Ronan didn’t let go of Adam’s hand until they got to the McDonalds on the other side of town… well, that was nobody’s goddamn business.

 

* * *

 

 

One thing was abundantly clear: Tad was out to get Ronan.

 

At first it was almost funny. Harmless. Cute, even. He’d stomp around rehearsals, pouting as Adam and Ronan bantered in a corner. He’d glare holes into the side of Ronan’s head as he and Adam rehearsed a romantic scene on stage. After rehearsal, when Adam and Ronan got into the same car, laughing and smiling like idiots, he’d slam the door to his convertible and speed out of the Aglionby parking lot, tires squealing and dust flying behind him. These were small things that were somewhat annoying, but Ronan was mature enough to look past it. After all, he knew how tough it could be to want Adam Parrish.

 

Then, it stopped being harmless.

 

It started with a foot lazily, but not accidentally, thrown in Ronan’s path. When Ronan ultimately stumbled over it, Tad looked up from the magazine he had been reading and muttered a less-than-sincere “oops.” His grin had been shit-eating.

 

Then it was the occasional rough nudge with a sword, the faux blade jabbing Ronan between the ribs during a fight scene, leaving him breathless and in more pain than he would admit. It took a stern look from Adam and a reminder from henry to remind Ronan if he didn’t keep his cool, he would get kicked out of school. He couldn’t risk that, so he held on tightly to his last few shred of tentative patience.

 

Of course, Tad didn’t just step over boundaries. He leapt across them, stomped on them, washed them away for good measure. And that’s exactly what he did that day in rehearsal.

 

“Your lady mother is coming to your chamber,” said Elijah, the junior who was playing the Nurse. He pranced off to make his exit as he said his next line. “The day is broke. Be wary, look about.”

 

Adam turned back to Ronan, placing a steady hand on Ronan’s cheek as he began to crawl down the ladder. In these moments, with a hand laid against bare skin, it was easy for them to forget they were acting. “Then, window, let day in and let life out.”

 

“Farewell, farewell,” Ronan recited. “One kiss, and I’ll descend.”

 

Adam leaned forward tentatively, knowing distantly what was going to happen but willing himself to try anyway. Just as Adam got close enough to lay a ghost of a kiss on Ronan’s lips, the boy jerked back, practically leaping down the stairs to avoid Adam’s kiss. Adam knew his cheeks must have turned a deep crimson in that moment. He heard a snicker from the audience and he knew, even before he turned, who it belonged to.

 

J.C. was slouched in the audience, an arrogant smirk stretched across his face as he met Adam’s glare head-on. Adam had not taken to J.C. in the month they’d been in rehearsals. Thankfully, Adam didn’t have to interact with him much. J.C. played Tybalt, who rarely ever crossed Juliet’s path, so the two stayed out of each other’s way for the most part. It was Ronan who J.C. couldn’t seem to steer clear of. Every time Adam turn his head, J.C. was there, standing with Ronan, making him laugh, placing his hands on his arms in a way that was a bit too salacious to be friendly. When Adam would catch him fawning over Ronan, J.C. never seemed embarrassed. He’d smirk, lean in, whisper into Ronan’s ear, grin as Ronan laughed at whatever was said, all the while holding Adam’s gaze. It was almost as if he wanted Adam to watch him throw himself at Ronan. There was a challenge in his grin and his eyes said, look what I can do. J.C. treated Adam like a toy, and it made Adam burn, not just because he had feelings for Ronan, but because Adam knew Ronan was not something to play with. He was a person. He was Adam’s person.

 

At the end of rehearsal, Henry gathered everyone up so he and Mr. Simons could go over their notes. J.C. plopped himself down next to Ronan before Adam could even descend the ladder. Bile rose in the back of Adam’s throat as J.C. threw Adam a haughty glance, his shoulder rising and falling in a faux apologetic shrug.

 

“Adam!” Tad called from the other side of the circle, patting the empty space beside him. “Over here!”

 

Great. Another reason for Adam to hate J.C.

 

Adam shuffled over to sit next to Tad, who began to chatter away as soon as Adam hit the ground. He nodded along politely and absently as he thought about other things: his shift at Boyd’s tonight, his statistics homework, the upwards curve of Ronan’s lips as he reacted to something J.C. said.

 

“So, do you want to?” Tad asked, snapping Adam out of his daydream.

 

“Sorry, what?” Adam asked.

 

“Oh, I was talking about the retreat Henry mentioned last rehearsal. We’re going camping or something, I think? I don’t know, it’s supposed to help us bond or something,” Tad shrugged. “Did you want to bunk with me?”

 

“Oh…” Adam mumbled, trying to think of an excuse on the fly. This was the first he was hearing about a retreat. He didn’t even know if he could get off work, and if he could, he definitely wasn’t going to be bunking with Carruthers. “I think I’m bunking with Ronan, Tad.”

 

“J.C. called dibs on Lynch,” Tad grinned triumphantly. “I think he has a crush on him. I don’t see the appeal, if you ask me.”

 

“He can’t just call dibs on Ronan,” Adam sputtered indignantly. “He’s a person, not a couch.”

 

“Well, he did,” Tad shrugged unapologetically. “So? Bunk buddies?”

 

Thankfully, Henry chose that moment to start notes, saving Adam from the awkwardness of having to turn Tad down. He couldn’t think of anything worse than being bunk buddies with Tad…besides being bunk buddies with J.C. That bastard.

 

“Alright, Lynch,” Henry sighed, glancing up at Ronan. “I know this is awkward, because we’re guys and it is super taboo, but you’re going to have to kiss Adam eventually. It’s in the script. Shakespeare makes the rules, not me.”

 

“I know…” Ronan muttered grumpily, his eyes trained stubbornly on the floor.

 

“So why aren’t you doing it?” Henry challenged. Adam thought Ronan’s cheeks were turning a bit pink, but it could have just been the stage lights.

 

“You scared, Lynch?” Tad asked, clearly amused by Ronan’s humiliation.

 

“No,” Ronan hissed. “Fuck off, Tad.”

 

“If you can’t follow the stage directions, you shouldn’t be playing such a big role,” Tad said with a surprising bite in his tone. “Or maybe you’re just afraid the cat will slip out of the bag?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ronan growled, his expression turning absolutely murderous as he fixed Tad with his coldest glare.

 

“You know exactly what it means,” Tad grinned smugly.

 

“Guys…” Henry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

 

“How about this,” Ronan spat, leaning forward menacingly. “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and worry about your goddamn self, because if I hear you run your mouth again, I’m going to string you up by your ankles and dangle you from the fucking catwalk.”

 

“Is that a threat?”

 

“That’s a promise.”

 

“That’s enough,” Henry shouted sternly, silencing the boys immediately. The room was pin-drop silence aside from Ronan’s ragged, angry breathing. “Let’s get back to notes.”

 

It was quiet for a moment as Henry searched for another note to give. Then, Tad jumped over the boundary. “…I honestly wouldn’t want to kiss Lynch if I were Adam. After Kavinsky, we all know where that mouth has been.”

 

Ronan was up in a flash, leaping towards Tad with his fists held high. Chaos erupted amongst the boys, shouting encouragingly at Ronan and Tad as the fight broke out. Tad bolted away from Ronan, cowering in the face of the repercussions of his words. Henry held Lynch back by one arm while Mr. Simons held the other. Adam didn’t even think before jumping in front of his livid friend, holding Ronan at bay as he struggled to get to Tad.

 

“Lynch, calm the fuck down!” Adam demanded, placing two steadying hands on Ronan’s chest as he thrashed. He wished Gansey was there. He was so much better at diffusing an angry Lynch. “Look at me, Ronan. Hey, Lynch, fucking _look at me!”_

 

Ronan’s eyes slowly dragged themselves away from Tad, turning on Adam instead. They were still dark and hard with rage, but Adam knew it wasn’t directed at him. “Ronan, you’re better than this. This will get you expelled. Don’t be an idiot. Think about what you’re doing _for once.”_

 

Adam hadn’t meant to sound angry, but his words had an edge to them. Violence did this to him. It made him burn with an anger that he hated seeing in himself. In these moments, he sounded like his father.

 

Ronan jerked away from the hands that were holding him, but he didn’t go after Tad. Instead, he stormed off the stage, grabbed his backpack and burst through the double doors in the time it took for Adam to remind himself how to breathe normally.

 

“You’re dismissed. Everyone out,” Henry said sternly. Adam didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his backpack and went after Ronan, trying to catch him before he could do something destructive.

 

Adam spotted Ronan heading towards the BMW. His shoulders were hunched with tension as he strode towards the car. Adam thought about what Gansey would do if he were there, and letting Ronan get behind the wheel of a car was not one of those things.

 

“Lynch, wait!” Adam called, jogging towards the boy. Ronan didn’t turn around. He simply ignored Adam and kept walking towards the BMW. “Lynch!”

 

“Fuck off, Parrish,” Ronan growled, pulling his keys from his pocket. His hands shook as he tried to unlock the car.

 

“Don’t get in the car, Ronan,” Adam begged. “Let’s go back to my place. We can just chill out-”

 

“Why would I want to go anywhere with you?” Ronan scoffed angrily.

 

“What?” Adam said, trying to keep the confusion and hurt out of his voice.

 

“You must think I’m a real idiot, huh?” Ronan barked an unamused laugh, turning on Adam with a lethal glare.

 

“Of course I don’t-”

 

“Really?” Ronan challenged, looming over Adam menacingly. “That’s what it sounded like back there. Poor Adam, always having to put up with his idiot friend, Ronan.”

 

“Fuck you, Lynch,” Adam spat. “You know damn well I have never treated you like that.”

 

“You just did, jackass,” Ronan shouted, throwing his hands out in frustration. “Don’t worry about me, Parrish, you just go finish your fucking college applications so you can get away from dumb fucks like me.”

 

“Maybe I will,” Adam growled. “You know, you don’t sound too grateful for someone I just saved from expulsion.”

 

“Oh, _thank you_ , Parrish. You’re my fucking savior, as usual,” Ronan drawled sarcastically. “Why don’t you save yourself before you go around trying to save other people?”

 

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Adam hissed, stepping into Ronan’s space.

 

“It means you’re not as perfect as you like to pretend to be,” Ronan grinned, all shark’s teeth and menace. “You’re as fucked up as I am.”

 

“No one is as fucked up as you are, Lynch,” Adam scoffed, cold and distant as hurt spread across his chest.

 

“Then why do you hang around me?” Ronan asked. “If I’m such a fuck up, why do you waste your time?”

 

 _Because I need you,_ Adam thought. _Because you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Because despite everything you do to drive me away, I’m still falling for you-_

 

“You know what?” Adam said, his voice settling into an eerie calm. “I have no idea.”

 

The silence was deafening as the two friends looked at each other with the eyes of strangers. Adam could feel the wall being put up between them and he wanted nothing more than to know it down, take it apart, take back his unkind words. It was too late. Ronan built his walls with steel bricks and cement.

 

“Hey Lynch,” a familiar voice called out over the rumbling of an engine. J.C. pulled up behind Adam in a red Ferrari, grinning at the pair with a smug confidence that Adam wanted to smack off his face.

 

“Jesus _Christ,_ ” Adam hissed. “Do you ever fuck off?”

 

“Ouch, Parrish. So mean,” J.C. grinned, leaning out of his window to stare up at Ronan. “Want a ride Lynch?”

 

“Yes,” Ronan answered immediately.

 

“Ronan-”

 

“If Gansey calls, tell him not to wait up,” Ronan muttered, walking around to the passenger’s side of the Ferrari.

 

“Ronan, if you get in that car, I’m done,” Adam said sternly, leveling Ronan with an even look despite feeling like he was going to shake apart. Ronan met his eyes over the hood of the car and Adam saw that storm raging behind them. _Don’t do it,_ Adam silently pleaded. _Stay with me. Let’s work this out. Don’t let him take you away._

 

Ronan shook his head at Adam before ducking into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him. J.C. grinned at Adam and lowered his sunglasses onto his nose before slamming on the gas, leaving Adam in a cloud of dust. Adam watched as the car sped away. He hated J.C. He hated that stupid Ferrari. He hated himself for getting angry. He hated that when he got home from work tonight, Ronan wouldn’t be there. He hated how that made him feel, like a ship lost at seat.

 

But Adam didn’t hate Ronan. Not even a little. Not at all. That was what hurt the most.

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOOooooooOOOOOOOoooo snap. That happened. Leave me some comments and let me know what you think! I'll try to update sooner rather than later. xoxo


	4. Act Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cast goes on a retreat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my favorite chapter so far. It's fluffy as hell. Enjoy.

Ronan and Adam weren’t talking.

 

This wasn’t a new thing. They’d had fights before that ended in harsh words and slammed doors and glares that could freeze hell. These fights were brutal, but fixable. Ronan would show up at Boyd’s with pizza or Adam would dare Ronan to do something reckless and just like that, they were back to normal, back to sarcasm and laughter and secret smiles when the other wasn’t looking. It was always the same…except now it wasn’t.

 

They hadn’t spoken to each other directly in two weeks.

 

Their chilly routine went like this: Gansey would come to school and they’d take turns walking to class with him. Adam ate his lunch in the library to avoid an awkward intervention with Gansey. They’d go to rehearsal, pretend to be lovers and once Henry called it a day they’d detach themselves from each other and resume the bitter cold denial of the other’s existence. Adam avoided Monmouth and took up some extra shifts so he would have an excuse to avoid Nino’s. When Gansey took Adam out to Cabeswater on Saturday mornings, Ronan would pretend to be sleeping so Gansey wouldn’t try to drag him alone. They held tightly to their pride, refusing to apologize for all of the things they regretted saying. They didn’t stray from the routine. They stayed as far away from each other as they could.

 

Except…not always.

 

Because sometimes, when Adam was tossing around in his lumpy twin bed late at night and thinking about the tattooed enigma that was Ronan Lynch, he would hear the familiar clomping of heavy boots on the creaky church stairs. His heart would race, every time, hoping Ronan would knock on his door, come into his room, crawl into bed with Adam and keep him warm in the winter chill. He never did. The clomping always stopped right outside his door, turning into a muffled thump as the boy slid down the wall to sit. Adam would press his hand against the wall, imagine Ronan pressed against the other side of it, so painfully close. He wasn’t sure if it was his pride or his fear that kept him from going to the door and demanding Ronan come inside. He supposed it was a mix of both. Nonetheless, Adam stayed in his bed and Ronan stayed on the other side of the wall, a few footsteps and a world away all at the same time.

 

Ronan’s presence kept Adam up for hours, resulting in a groggier, grumpier Adam at school the next day. That’s how it was that Friday before the retreat. Henry had gathered everyone together after rehearsal to go over the details for the next day’s retreat. Adam was dead on his feet as he listened to Henry read off bus assignments and departure times. It felt like hours had passed before they were released, and then off Adam went to work himself to the bone for another four hours. The days felt like an endless slump without reprieve for Adam. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was exhaustion and how much of it was the absence of the person who used to make the long days more enjoyable. God, he was pathetic.

 

“Hey Adam,” Tad’s voice rang out from behind Adam as he was walking to his car. He contemplated not stopping his march to the Hondayota, but he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Tad’s obnoxious perseverance was his strongest and most unfortunate trait.

 

“What’s up, Tad?” Adam sighed, letting his annoyance ooze from his tone. Tad jumped in front of him, walking backwards so he could face Adam as he talked.

 

“Are you excited for the retreat?” Tad asked, smiling brightly.

 

“No,” Adam said flatly, fishing in his pockets for his keys. Tad’s smile slipped, just for a minute, before it was back again in blinding color.

 

“Yeah, it’s totally lame,” Tad scoffed, rolling with the punches. “But I mean, it might not be that bad. Hey, did you put any more thought into being bunk buddies?”

 

“I don’t think that would be a good idea, Tad,” Adam said, jamming his key into the Hondayota’s door as he tried to hold on to the last shred of his patience.

 

“Why not? I don’t snore or anything, so you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve been told I’m a very good roommate-”

 

“I don’t give a shit about your snoring, Tad,” Adam snapped. So much for patience. “I give a shit that you hurt my best friend, and because of that we’re not talking. I give a shit that you are constantly giving Lynch a hard time. You push and you push and you push so _of course_ he snaps. Who the fuck wouldn’t?”

 

“Oh, please, he can handle it-”

 

“I know he can handle it! That doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have to. He is so much _more_ than the rest of you entitled assholes. What you said to him the other day was really shitty and you owe him an apology,” Adam hissed. He realized, distantly, that he was being a hypocrite. If anyone hurt Ronan, it was Adam, and he was the one who needed to apologize; but his rage and pride pushed to the front of his mind, as always.

 

“Jesus Christ, Adam, okay,” Tad muttered, holding his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t know it was that important to you. J.C. told me you guys weren’t even friends anymore.”

 

Adam felt his heart sink. Where did J.C. come up with that? Did Ronan say that during their getaway drive? Adam supposed it was his fault, anyway. Why would Ronan want to be friends with him?

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Adam sighed, defeat weighing him down. “Just apologize, Tad. Ronan didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry for snapping, I’m just…I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

 

Adam looked up to confirm he hadn’t completely crushed Tad, but found the boy’s eyes weren’t focused on Adam anymore. They were cold and calculating and set on something just behind Adam. Adam turned to see what he was looking at and felt his stomach swoop uncomfortably.

 

Ronan stared at Adam with those wide, blue eyes of his, his expression masked with surprise. Adam knew this was his chance to beg for forgiveness, to latch onto Ronan and beg him to stop being angry with him, to tell him he was wrong and he was sorry and he was confused by the way his heart had somehow become attached to Ronan’s when he wasn’t paying attention.

 

Of course, he didn’t do that. He got into his car, started the engine and sped away from the school, leaving Ronan and Tad in a cloud of exhaust behind him.  His father’s words echoed in his head as he focused on the blurry road ahead of him: _coward, worthless, unloved._

As the first tear hit Adam’s cheek, he could only form one thought: _his dad was right. He was right all along._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The buses weren’t what Adam was expecting, but having been an Aglionby student for years now, he should be used to the unexpected.

 

They weren’t the giant, yellow buses that usually transported kids to and from school events. Henry had rented out four charter buses, one just to hold their stuff. Upon seeing this display of useless wealth, Adam had rolled his eyes so hard he could have strained something in the process.

 

Of course, the rest of the cast brought actual luggage, so the extra bus was actually necessary. Adam felt a little ridiculous as he handed off his ratty duffel bag to the bus driver and then scolded himself for it. Who the hell brings luggage on a camping trip?

 

“Don’t scuff my suitcase,” Tad told the bus driver as he loaded his Louis Vuitton suitcase onto the bus. “It was a gift from my father.”

 

Adam bit down on a laugh and turned to share a look with someone he forgot wasn’t there anymore. The feeling of loneliness ricocheted in Adam’s chest. Only, it wasn’t quite loneliness. It was messier, deeper, more personal than that.

 

 _You miss him,_ the devil on his shoulder whispered in his ear. Adam shrugged the thought off as he got on the bus.

 

Tad jumped into the seat next to Adam, but didn’t say a word. Things were still tense from the day before, but a little tension never stopped Tad. He bounced in his seat, radiating an excitement Adam didn’t quite share. All around Adam, boys chattered away, laughing and horsing around with each other. For a moment, Adam thought he should try to join in with them, develop some kind of fraternal bond with the men who would no doubt become the world’s newest generation of powerful men. Then, Adam pulled out his book and let himself get lost.

 

“What do you want, Lynch?” Tad said with restrained disdain, pulling Adam out of focus so quickly it almost made him dizzy. Adam looked up to find Ronan looming over Tad, a hard expression set on his attractive face.

 

“Get up, Tad, I’m riding with Parrish,” Ronan said gruffly, not looking away from Tad’s face to see the absolute look of shock on Adam’s face. Adam’s heart lurched traitorously in his chest.

 

“What?” Tad sputtered indignantly. “But there’s hardly any seats left.”

 

“That sounds like a personal problem,” Ronan deadpanned.

 

Before Tad could protest again, Adam laid a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I told him I’d sit with him, Tad. Will you move? For me?”

 

Tad seemed to digest this for a moment, the weight of Adam’s on his shoulder obviously affecting his decision making abilities because he simply stood from his seat and hopped across the aisle, plopping himself down next to a very pissed off J.C. Ronan collapsed into the seat next to Adam and pulled out his headphones, looping them around his neck. Adam thought he might pull them over his ears, block Adam and everyone else out as he listened to the ear-piercing cry of electronica. To Adam’s surprise, Ronan didn’t turn on any music. He simply slumped in his seat and stared straight ahead as the bus roared to life.

 

Adam was counting every breath, his insides twisting. He was still mad at Ronan for his harsh words, but having him here, so close with their shoulders brushing, felt like coming home. How did Adam get so wrapped up in this barbed wire boy? How did Ronan go from the brash stranger in his classes to the one Adam ached for? How did he go from being someone he hated to someone he loved-

 

 _Stop that,_ Adam willed himself, _don’t even think it._

 

Thirty minutes into the ride, Ronan broke the silence in a very Ronan Lynch way. “Jesus, Parrish, you’re hogging the arm rest with those gigantic elbows of yours.

 

As always, Adam took Ronan’s bait. “Oh, fuck off. Your knobby knees have been jabbing me since the ride started. I’ll probably have bruises by the time we get off this bus.”

 

“Jesus weeps for you, Parrish. Truly,” Ronan grinned, and just like that, they were Adam and Ronan again. They were both trying and failing to conceal their stupid grins.

 

Ronan had privately been longing for this since he got into J.C.’s car that day, leaving a hurt and angry Adam in the rearview. What Adam didn’t know is that when J.C. asked where he wanted to go, Ronan gave him directions to Monmouth, said a hasty and distant goodbye before leaving him confused and pissed off in that douchey Ferrari of his. Ronan had spent every minute since then warring between being crushed and furious, finally coming to the resigned conclusion that Adam had somehow wormed his way so deep into Ronan’s heart that it hurt to breathe when he wasn’t around. He needed Adam, no matter how pissed he was, no matter how much better off Adam was without him. Ronan had fallen in love with that strange and beautiful boy without realizing it was happening. If he couldn’t have him as he truly wanted him, he wanted to have him as a friend, which is what he planned to tell him the day before the retreat.

 

 _He is so much more than the rest of you entitled assholes,_ Adam had said. The word more was still ringing in Ronan’s ears. In Adam’s voice, he had recognized something familiar, an emotion that leaked into his voice when he was cursing at Adam or comforting him or just talking to him.

 

 _Love_ , his treacherous heart had supplied for him, _it’s love._ Just like that, a seed of hope had been planted in Ronan, and it had been growing and growing, giving Ronan the courage to say his next few words.

 

“I heard what you said to Tad yesterday,” Ronan said quietly.

 

“I know,” Adam breathed, suddenly nervous again as he waited for Ronan to speak again.

 

“I…” Ronan started, feeling a blush spread across his cheeks. “Thanks.”

 

“For telling the truth?” Adam asked.

 

“For being a friend,” Ronan confirmed. The word friend felt like cotton in Ronan’s mouth and a gunshot in Adam’s ear. It was not strictly untrue. They were friends first, bonded at the soul and inseparable. After everything they had been through, how could they have thought one small fight could have ended this friendship? Still, it seemed to be too simple of a word. They were friends, yes, the best of friends, but in their hearts it felt like a lie. It was a confirmation of everything they already knew, and yet it hurt. What they felt, what both of them knew about themselves and the inner workings of their own hearts, it was all so much more.

 

The bus ride was two hours filled with banter and laughter as they boys relearned each other. They hadn’t really forgotten, but they were reminded of all the things they loved and hated about each other. As the bus rolled to a stop, their sides hurt from laughter and their cheeks ached from smiling. It was the best sort of pain, a conclusion that was drawn by two experts on the matter of pain.

 

There were no tents and no sleeping bags in sight. Turns out “camping” for rich kids included cabins and heating and indoor plumbing, but Adam really should have guessed that. Once all of the boys had shuffled off their buses and their bags had been unloaded by annoyed bus drivers who had just suffered two hours with Aglionby boys, Henry gathered them all together and began to read off rooming assignments.

 

“Okay cabin four: Adam, Ronan, Tad and J.C.,” Henry announced, fixing Ronan with a _look._ “No bullshit, understand?”

 

“I will be perfectly fucking civil,” Ronan grinned. Adam was not sharing his lightness. The thought of sleeping a few feet away from J.C. made his stomach curl uncomfortably.

 

The cabin was four times the size of his apartment at Saint Agnes. It was comprised of two rooms, a bathroom and a small living room area. The two rooms, made up of two full sized beds and a closet, were divided by the living room. Adam and Ronan had walked ahead of Tad and J.C., managing to snag one of the rooms to share. Adam could breathe easily knowing J.C. would be resting far away from him and, more importantly, far away from Ronan.

 

After claiming their beds, the boys met in the living area and looked around. “Looks like we’re roughing it, boys,” Tad sighed dramatically as he swiped a finger across the dusty coffee table. Adam and Ronan shared an amused and knowing look. “Roughing it” looked a lot different for Adam and Ronan. While their version of roughing it was crawling through a muddy cave with Gansey and fighting off demons, Tad’s version apparently included staying the night in a cabin that was twice the size of the trailer Adam grew up in. Figures.

 

Once they were settled in, Henry gathered them all together in a flowery clearing and began a rehearsal. It was strangely thrilling to be out there in the shade of the trees, so close to each other as they rehearsed their many scenes together. It wasn’t Cabeswater and Adam knew that, but he still felt the pull of the forest guiding him through each scene. It brought an etherealness to the whole thing, and the press of Ronan’s skin against his hands intensified that.

 

Dinner was simpler than Adam expected it to be. Hot dogs over a roaring bonfire…which was electric, of course, because no Aglionby student knew how to make their own fire. Still, as the sun dipped behind the trees, the flame was not the only thing that burned. Ronan felt the heat in his belly, in his fingers, in his heart as he watched Adam’s blue eyes gleam with contentment. It was such a rare and beautiful sight that he didn’t even look away when Adam caught him staring. That set Adam on fire, too. Things were suddenly too hot between them.

 

“I need some air,” Ronan announced.

 

“Don’t you have enough of it out here?” Tad asked, his nose wrinkling with unmasked disdain. Whether that disdain be for Ronan or the great outdoors went unsaid, but it probably applied to both.

 

Surprisingly, Ronan didn’t have a quip for that. He didn’t want to shatter the preciousness of this night. He turned to Adam and quirked a dark eyebrow, his mouth lifting into a private smile, just for the boy with the blue eyes and the pretty hands. “Want to go for a walk?”

 

It was the quiet, intimate way Ronan said it that set Adam’s heart racing. Too hot, indeed. “Yes.”

 

The pair slipped away from the fire silently, disappearing into the trees. This felt natural to them, navigating through the forest, side by side. The night seemed to wrap around them, the darkness pushing them together. The wind was gentle on their skin, a timid kiss, a promise for later. Their quiet laughter was a melody that filled the air.

 

“I’ve missed this,” Adam murmured, the confession feeling lighter on his tongue than he anticipated. “I’ve…missed you. I wasn’t sure if you would want to be friends again.”

 

“Adam,” Ronan sighed. “What Tad said about what J.C. told him…it wasn’t true. You’re my best friend. You always will be.”

 

“I know that,” Adam smiled, realizing it was the truth. “I think he may be jealous. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, like he wants to devour you.”

 

“He can look all he likes,” Ronan said, turning his serious gaze on Adam. “He’s not what I want.”

 

They held each other’s gaze for a moment before the moment was so charged with tension and desire and something more that they couldn’t breathe. They walked silently, hands brushing coyly as they trudged through the woods.

 

“Look,” Adam gasped, pointing into the distance. A large pond was glowing blue in the moonlight, the water sitting so still it almost looked like glass. Adam and Ronan approached it, seating themselves on the small, rickety dock, side by side and too close to be casual.

 

“I think this show is actually going to be good,” Adam said gently, so as not to disturb the peace of the evening.

 

“It’s not so bad,” Ronan shrugged, but the light in his eyes gave him away.

 

“You’re a good Romeo,” Adam grinned, nudging Ronan playfully with his shoulder. The touch burned and Ronan craved more, more, more.

 

“You’re a good Juliet,” Ronan chuckled. “Who knew Adam Parrish could act?”

 

“Who said I was acting?” said slyly. This felt like too much, but Ronan’s smile gave him courage. “I want to ask you something.”

 

“Then ask it,” Ronan whispered.

 

“Every night since our fight, you’ve come to Saint Agnes…but you never came in. You never stayed until Morning. You just sat outside the door,” Adam said quietly, suddenly unable to tear his gaze away from Ronan’s. “Why?”

 

“I…” Ronan didn’t seem to know how to start. Words were not his specialty, but truth was. He leaned on that. “After the thing with the posters, I was worried your dad would come looking for you. I wasn’t going to let him get near you, so I stood guard.”

 

Suddenly, the air felt too thick. It was getting harder for Adam to breathe. “Why?”

 

“I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting you again,” Ronan’s voice dropped to a low whisper, something for the two of them to share. This felt like nearing the edge of a cliff, knowing that the drop was too far down and quickening your strides anyway.

 

“Why?” Adam asked. It was hardly a breath. It was all he could manage.

 

Ronan took the leap. “You know why.”

 

That was all Adam needed apparently, because in a moment he was in front of Ronan’s face, nose brushing nose, eyelashes sliding across flushed cheeks. Adam’s eyes begged permission, and Ronan’s happily granted it. Their lips touched, soft and timid and _right._

 

The first kiss was a simple, sweet press of lips. They were slow to separate, their lips pulling against them to stay together. They pulled back, hooded eyes meeting as their noses brushed, and then they collided. This kiss was nothing like the first. It was lips tugging at lips, noses pressed into cheeks, tongues sliding across lips, begging entrance and granting it. Their hearts were hammering against their ribcages as they clung to each other and it felt intimate to be feeling that beat against skin, forming one synchronized rhythm. Adam inched impossibly closer to Ronan, who let his hands explore with little restraint. It was like the dam had burst.

 

When they finally pulled back, they were slow to open their eyes. They didn’t want to wake from this dream. It would kill them, to have this thing between them blossom and unfurl, to have tasted each other and liked it, and then to wake and find themselves it two separate beds, panting and desperate for each other.

 

Adam was the first to open his eyes and he felt a loopy grin spread across his face as he looked at the beautiful creature that was Ronan Lynch. He was flushed and kiss-bitten, but so impossibly unguarded that it felt like looking at a different person. When Ronan’s eyes fluttered open to meet his, Adam smiled. “You kiss by the book.”

 

Ronan grinned, his eyes clouding with amused indignation. “You are such a nerd.”

 

“Adam! Ronan!” Henry’s voice ripped through the air, startling the boys as their lips brushed again.

 

“Time to get back,” Adam sighed against Ronan’s mouth.

 

“Fuck them. Let’s stay,” Ronan growled, taking Adam’s bottom lip between his. Adam let out a muffled chuckle, placing both hands on Ronan’s toned chest and pushing him back with much effort.

 

“Later,” he whispered and they both grinned. Later was a promise that held new meaning. As they walked back, hand in hand, their hearts sang of _love, love,_ _love._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Adam was more tired than he had thought. When they got back to camp, they immediately marched straight to their cabin, ignoring the suspicious looks that were thrown their way. Tad and J.C. were already there.

 

“Want to find some fun tonight, Ronan?” J.C. asked, suggestively waving a bottle of vodka that he had stashed in his luggage.

 

“Nope,” Ronan grunted, slamming the bedroom door behind him as Adam ducked into the bathroom, trying desperately not to grin with delight and failing.

 

Ronan got the last shot at the bathroom, so Adam waited in bed, trying to fight the sagging of his eyelids. He barely registered Ronan crawling into his bed. When Henry came around to see if all the boys were in their beds, Adam was half asleep, but as soon as he left, he heard the gentle padding of feet.

 

“Move over, Parrish,” Ronan huffed, lifting the corner of the blanket and sliding into the full bed. It might have been weird to crawl into bed with a boy you had only just shared your first kiss with, but this was no ordinary boy. This was Adam, someone he knew down to the core. He might have resisted regardless, had Adam not been pulling him closer with needy hands.

 

Their lips found each other again, settling into slow, languid kisses. They had time to go slow, to perfect this exciting new task. Their tongues slid together and it felt like home…until Adam yawned in the middle of a kiss.

 

“That boring?” Ronan asked, grinning as he felt Adam huff a laugh, the minty breath settling across his cheeks.

 

“I’m exhausted,” Adam whispered. “You kept me up all night, sitting outside my door. You were so close and so far away.”

 

Ronan hoped Adam couldn’t feel his heart pick up speed as the sentence left his pretty lips. What did he care if he did feel it? That beating heart belonged to Adam.

 

“Go to sleep, Adam,” Ronan whispered, and the boy complied, smiling softly as he slipped into unconsciousness. Ronan kissed his forehead, smoothing out the residual worry lines that seemed to be permanently etched into Adam’s forehead.

 

 _Beautiful,_ Ronan thought as he slid into sleep himself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan woke up to the feeling of soft lips on his jaw and a warm weight in his arms. It was definitely the second best moment of his life, right behind last night’s kiss.

 

“Mornin’,” Adam drawled, letting his accent slip all the way out. It did funny things to Ronan’s insides. “Sleep well?”

 

“Better than ever,” Ronan grinned. “Did you?”

 

“Mhmm,” Adam hummed, reluctantly pulling away from his task to smile up at Ronan. “I can’t believe last night actually happened.”

 

“You can’t believe it?” Ronan laughed. “The boy I’ve been drooling over for two fucking years kissed me and didn’t vomit. I’m still waiting to wake up.”

 

“You’re not dreaming,” Adam said.

 

“I know,” Ronan said. “I couldn’t dream this, you, if I tried.”

 

“You’re such a sap,” Adam grinned. “Who knew?”

 

“Shut up, asshole,” Ronan laughed.

 

“Parrish! Lynch!” J.C.’s voice rang out from behind the closed door, making them freeze. “Bus leaves in fifteen!”

 

“That’s our cue,” Ronan sighed, starting to peel himself from the warm sheets. Two long-fingered hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him back.

 

“Five more minutes,” Adam said, kissing his way across Ronan’s chest.

 

“So needy,” Ronan said, rolling his eyes fondly. “Five more minutes.”

 

Ten minutes later, they peeled themselves from the bed and got ready, stealing kisses in between tasks. 24 hours ago, the thought of leaving small kisses on each other’s skin in the pale morning light was a far-away dream, a fantasy. Now, it was as real and tangible as they were. It was a beautiful beginning to something too precious to name just yet.

 

The bus ride home was spent in silence, both of them looking out the window as the trees flashed in a blur of green. But under the protection of Ronan’s pillow, their hands were clasped together, unwilling to let go.

 

The fire between them raged and together they burned.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH bye bye slow burn!
> 
> So, it's the last week of the semester, meaning shit is crazy. I PROMISE I will update this as soon as I can, but don't kill me if that isn't as soon as you'd like. I'm sorry!!!!
> 
> I hope y'all liked this. My heart is singing. My boys are boy-toys. 
> 
> Leave me some comments!!! xx.


	5. Act Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam and Ronan are smitten and there is drama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 5,000 words of shameless fluff. Enjoy.

 

Noah knew first, of course, because Noah knew everything.

 

When they got off the bus, Adam and Ronan were careful not to give themselves away, partly because Gansey would go into cardiac arrest if his two best friends were holding hands and kissing in the backseat of his car, and partly because this thing between them felt so intimate, so personal, that they didn’t want to let anyone else get their hands on it. It felt too precious to share.

 

Of course, that was shot to shit pretty soon.

 

Gansey and Noah had picked them up from Aglionby that Sunday, waiting as they unloaded from the bus. Adam thought Gansey looked more like a dad than his dad had ever looked in that moment, standing in front of the Pig with his khakis and his yellow sweater and a 1000-watt smile on his face like he was picking his sons up from summer camp.

 

“How was it?” Gansey asked as Adam and Ronan slung their bangs into the trunk. “Did anything exciting happen?”

 

Adam and Ronan shared a look, lips tugging up at the corners almost imperceptivity. Adam said, “It was pretty uneventful.”

 

“Really?” Gansey frowned as he slid into the driver’s seat. “I would have thought there would be some kind of nonsense prank or something. Shaving cream in the hair, daring someone to skinny dip and then taking their clothes…”

 

“Yeah, but then they would have had to go off and stay in a remote cabin and eat peanut butter and Oreos and realize they were twin sisters,” Ronan quipped, earning a snort from Adam. Ronan tried not to preen with pride at having made Adam laugh. “You’ve watched the Parent Trap too many goddamn times, Dick.”

 

“Hey, that’s a quality film,” Gansey was quick to defend. He popped open the passenger side door for Ronan and almost did a double take when Ronan instead slid into the back seat beside Adam.

 

“You don’t want shotgun?” Gansey asked.

 

“Nah, you can take it, Noah,” Ronan said, digging his script out from his backpack. “Parrish and I have to go over some scenes.”

 

“Yeah, I bet you do,” Noah smirked. If looks could kill and Noah wasn’t already dead, he would have been doing the death rattle in that moment.

 

“Alright,” Gansey said warily, sure to send one last look to Ronan in the rearview. “To Nino’s, then?”

 

Gansey talked the whole way to the pizza shop. It was almost as if he had been the one to go away for two days. As Gansey droned on about some sword of Glendower’s that had been discovered recently, Noah kept giving Adam and Ronan knowing looks. Adam had always found it privately creepy that Noah just knew things without ever being told, and now that he knew it was more supernatural than intuitive, it was even creepier.

 

“Gansey, can you tell me again about Glendower’s wife?” Noah asked and Adam stifled the urge to groan as Gansey animatedly jumped at the task. That is, until he felt Ronan’s fingers trailing up and down Adam’s forearm, his unbearably light touch raising goosebumps on the tan limb. He met Ronan’s hooded blue eyes, feeling the breath get stuck in his throat as the tattooed boy bit down on his plump bottom lip. Just hours ago he had taken that lip between his. It felt so long ago and he faintly registered the flush crawling up his neck as Ronan mouthed the word _later_. He then recognized Noah’s request for what it was: a distraction.

 

Sometimes ghostly intuition wasn’t a bad thing.

 

Once they got to Nino’s, Ronan and Adam lasted about as long as it took for Blue to get their drink orders before Ronan was leaping from the booth like it had burned him. “I have to piss,” he announced grandly before practically running towards the bathroom.

 

“You know, me too,” Adam mumbled. “Long car ride and all that.”

 

“Don’t fall in,” Blue smirked, perching on Gansey’s lap as she pulled a pencil from her hair and began to jot down their usual order. Adam took advantage of Gansey’s distraction and slipped away from the booth and headed for the men’s room.

 

Ronan was waiting for him there, leaning against the dingy sink, biting his bracelets as his leg bounced impatiently. He looked up when Adam entered, a grin stretching across his face. It wasn’t his usual shit-eating one, but a blissful, happy grin. Adam thought if he could just make that grin appear for the rest of his life, he’d be a contented man.

 

“Oh, thank _fuck_ ,” Ronan sighed, taking Adam’s face in his hands and bringing his lips to his. Ronan made quick work of slipping his tongue into Adam’s mouth. Gone was the need for languidness, for gentle pecks and soft smiles. This kiss was teeth nipping lips and bruising force. Adam found himself starving for it. “Let’s never go that long without kissing again.”

 

“It’s been three hours,” Adam remarked dryly, but the effect was dampened by the sharp breath he drew in when Ronan’s hungry lips made their way down his throat.

 

“That’s too long,” Ronan groaned, the sound going straight to Adam’s tense abdomen.

 

“You went eighteen years without kissing me,” Adam reminded him. Ronan drew back, a sweet smile replacing his grin as he pressed his nose against Adam’s, his large hand still cupping the back of Adam’s neck. Adam felt his heart skip.

 

“Yeah,” Ronan said. “Remind me to never do _that_ again.”

 

“God, you two are disgusting.”

 

Adam and Ronan leapt apart with a yelp at Noah’s glee-filled voice, Ronan flinging himself against a stall door and Adam backing himself into a corner. They could not look guiltier if they tried.

 

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Noah!” Ronan hissed. “Don’t ever do that shit again.”

 

“Oh, please,” Noah sighed, rolling his eyes with fond exasperation. “I’ve been living with you for years now, Ro. I’ve seen you more indecent.”

 

“Noah, we just-”

 

“It’s okay, Adam,” Noah smiled. “I know exactly what you were doing. To be honest, I’m surprised you’re just now getting to it. I guess it’s true what they say about theatre kids. Horny bastards…”

 

“Don’t be a dick, Noah,” Ronan growled, put out by the distance between him and Adam.

 

“Speaking of,” Noah said, leaning against a sink with an unaffected smile on his face, “are you two planning on telling Gansey and Blue? Or is this more of covert operation?”

 

That was a good question.

 

Ronan risked a glance at Adam and found him looking back. He tried to put on an air of indifference, but he knew it wouldn’t pass. Ronan had always been clear about his views on relationships. He couldn’t think of anything more painful than enduring the kind of uncommitted bullshit Declan pulled with his endless string of blondes, except maybe losing what he had with Adam altogether. Was that at risk? The thought of treating Adam with anything less than a holy devotion pained him. He knew what he wanted. He wanted Adam, he wanted to kiss him openly and treat him with the reverence he had always deserved but never gotten. But what did Adam want?

 

“Look, I’ll leave you to talk,” Noah said, “but just know that they’d be thrilled for you, if not a little shell-shocked. I’m thrilled for you. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for one of you to man up.”

 

That caught Ronan’s attention. “Wait, Adam, how long have you liked me?”

 

“God, for months,” Noah groaned. “You two put me on edge with all that UST.”

 

Noah rolled his eyes and when they refocused, he seemed to realize that there were two sets of eye glaring at him and promptly faded before those eyes. Adam and Ronan stared at each other for a moment before Ronan held a hand out towards the other boy in invitation. Adam smiled softly as he went to Ronan, allowing himself to melt in the boy’s comforting embrace. He kissed a soft line across Ronan’s cheekbone, stopping at the ear and to press against him, cheek to cheek.

 

“What do you want?” Adam whispered, the sound of the low hum so close to his ear making Ronan shiver. Ronan pulled back and took Adam’s face in his hands, staring intently into his eyes, two enchanting pools of murky blue.  This all felt like a dream to him, having Adam so close, kissing him, holding him, loving him with possible reciprocation. He didn’t want to wake up.

 

“You,” Ronan answered and it was the truest answer he could give, no matter how vague. Adam seemed to understand. A soft little smile flitted across his beautiful face, making Ronan chest constrict.

 

“You have me,” Adam said, and that was it. It was settled with just those few, simple words and a long, slow kiss that said everything they hadn’t. _I want you. I want this. I have wanted it for so, so long. Longer than you know._

“Should we face the jury, Parrish?” Ronan quipped, his signature smirk making an appearance. Adam traced his fingers along the curve of it before taking Ronan’s hand in his.

“Let’s go,” Adam said.

 

Gansey didn’t even notice his two best friends holding hands as they slid back into the booth, his hazel eyes set fondly on Blue as she flitted around the restaurant. Noah sat next to him, smiling as he gave them a small nod of encouragement.

 

“Hey, Dick,” Ronan said. “We have something to tell you.”

 

The smile dropped off of Gansey’s face as he turned to face them, sure he was going to hear something that disappointed him. Ronan remembered his darkest dreams, where Gansey turned his back in disgust when Ronan confessed that he liked boys. Ronan’s gut twisted with anxiety. He had not wanted to do this in Nino’s on a busy Sunday night.

 

But then he felt Adam flex his beautiful fingers, squeezing Ronan’s hand softly. When Ronan turned to look at him, he was already looking back. The tension seeped out of Ronan’s bones as he looked at Adam, at the boy who just 24 hours ago had kissed him softly and in turn gave him a reason to want to come out to Gansey in a busy pizza shop. Even if Gansey blew up, turned his back, told him to fuck off with his sick tendencies, at least he had this: Adam’s warm hand in his, his blue eyes set on him with a look of fond encouragement in them. They seemed to say, _you can do this._

 

And that was all he needed.

 

Ronan took their intertwined hands and set them on the table, leveling Gansey with an even stare. “Parrish and I are seeing each other and I really hope you’re okay with that because you’re my best friend and I really want your support. If you’re not okay with it then that’s fine too, I guess-”

 

Ronan was promptly cut off by a whimper.

 

“Gansey?” Adam said, staring at Gansey with unmasked confusion as the boy began to cry.

 

“I’m sorry,” Gansey hiccupped, dabbing at his eyes with a napkin. “I’m just so happy- I mean, that you two are- that you could come to- that you’re both-”

 

“Gansey, breathe,” Ronan implored him. Gansey took a few gulping breaths and drank a few sips of iced tea after Noah nudged the glass in his direction. After Gansey had gained tentative control of his emotions, he took a deep breath and smiled at Adam and Ronan, who sat staring at him with matching expressions of concern.

 

 

“I’m just happy you two are happy and that you’re trusting me with that happiness,” Gansey smiled, clearly still struggling to contain himself. “I’ve been waiting for you guys to look as happy as you do right now. It’s all I’ve wanted.”

 

Adam and Ronan couldn’t quite form the words. Here was Gansey, poster child for the WASPs and reigning posh king of Aglionby, constantly defying the odds by being the most caring soul to ever live. They both felt a deep love for him in that moment, but of course they would be dicks about it, because dealing with feelings was so obviously not their thing.

 

“Dick, do you need to go to the lady’s room and change your tampon?” Ronan scoffed, but the bush on his cheeks and the look in his eyes sang of gratitude.

 

“Ronan, that is sexist and disgusting of you,” Blue said, not raising her eyes from her notepad as she slid into the booth next to Gansey. She looked up at him first, saw his damp eyes and turned to Ronan and Adam for an explanation, finally spotting their intertwined hands. “Oh, thank God. I was wondering when you shits would get together. So, tell us how it happened.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan was in pain.

 

This was nothing new. Ronan was kind of the king of pain. He’d seen death come to those he loved time and time again, been ripped apart by night terrors, had witnessed the boy he loved almost die at the hands of his father and had suffered dreams worse than your wildest nightmares. None of that had put him in the same amount of sheer pain and aching he felt as Adam walked out of that dressing room.

 

Henry had gathered them all together at the beginning of rehearsal for a costume parade. The show was getting nearer now and the costumer, a tailor shipped in from France, had just finished hand making all the costumes. They were separated into two different dressing rooms to change, male characters in one room, female characters in the other, and were then pushed onto the stage so Henry could approve of them. Ronan felt completely uncomfortable, standing there in period clothing, thick tights and all. Blue was going to lose her shit when she saw him. Ronan at least felt lucky that he was in dark colors, his tunic being a steel grey with a red Montague crest that was the only contrast to the all-black ensemble. Henry had almost forced him into a pink tunic, but had digressed due to Ronan’s very serious threat to burn the theater to the ground.

 

“Spin for me, Lynch!” Henry called out gleefully, delighting in the way Ronan was scowling at him, his pale face turning a dark crimson as he turned slowly and stiffly. “You look perfect. Perhaps we can hem the tunic?”

 

“Hell fucking no, Cheng,” Ronan growled, earning a chuckle from Henry.

 

“Alright, alright,” the boy conceded, turning to address a problem with the Nurse’s dress.

 

 

“Looking good, Lynch,” J.C. grinned, sidling up to Ronan with an almost-leer on his face. He was dressed in a similar ensemble, only his crest was blue and his tunic was black. Ronan supposed he was handsome enough, and Ronan could admit that once upon a time, before he had known Adam Parrish and had seen what unique beauty in its truest form looked like, J.C. hadn’t been hard to look at. Now, however, all he saw in J.C. was what he lacked in comparison to Adam.

 

“Thanks,” Ronan answered cordially, but not warmly. This didn’t deter J.C. in the slightest.

 

“Hey, I didn’t get to see much of you at the retreat,” J.C. said.

 

“Yeah, um…sorry, I guess,” Ronan frowned. “I was preoccupied.”

 

That was one way to put it.

 

“That’s okay, Lynch…” J.C. hummed, stepping up to speak into Ronan’s ear. “How are you gonna make it up to me?”

 

Before Ronan could formulate a scathing response, he heard Henry whoop behind him. “Adam Parrish, you are a _vision!_ ”

 

Ronan turned and then, suddenly, there was pain, a blinding, searing, beautiful _pain_.

 

Adam stepped onto the stage in a pale blue dress, so light against his tan Henrietta skin that it almost looked white. His lean shoulders were visible as the dress dropped off of them, revealing the constellation of freckles that Ronan had just last night dreamed about running his tongue over. He was wearing a wig that matched his sandy hair, curling in pretty tendrils down his back. And god dammit his cheekbones…it was almost too much, and still not enough to satiate Ronan. Ronan had never in his life been attracted to someone in a dress, but there he was, frozen, fighting to keep his thoughts in check as he looked at Adam because he could _not_ pop a fucking boner in those tights. It was a true testament to the way Ronan felt about Adam that regardless of what he looked like, Ronan was still head over heels.

 

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Ronan rasped. Adam smiled at him knowingly, biting his lip as his eyes trailed up and down Ronan’s body. They weren’t being subtle at all, and they didn’t care in the slightest.

 

“This okay, Henry?” Adam asked, not quite dragging his eyes from Ronan.

 

“Okay would be an understatement,” Henry cheered. “Give me a spin.”

 

As Adam obliged, Ronan caught a glimpse of the low-cut back of the dress and nearly keeled over.

 

“You are perfection, baby cakes,” Henry said. “But we’ll have to shave those legs. Alright, who’s next?”

 

Adam stepped aside, trailing just in the line of Ronan’s vision as he tossed his faux hair over his shoulder. God, he was such a tease. Ronan was in love.

 

“Oh hi, J.C.,” Adam said with a cheeriness so fake it was downright lethal. He sidled up to Rona and placed a hand on his arm, a subtle gesture but a message nonetheless. “Didn’t see you there. What were you saying to Ronan just now?”

 

J.C. wasn’t deterred. “Just that he’d have to find a way to make it up to me for spending the whole retreat with you.”

 

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Adam smiled, his eyes like daggers. Ronan was a bit perplexed to find himself so wildly turned on. “Rehearsal is about to start. We’ll see you later, J.C.”

 

It was a dismissal so sharp it could have cut flesh. J.C. hesitated before fleeing into the audience and Ronan couldn’t blame him. The dress had given Adam confidence.

 

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” Ronan said, not unkindly. “I’m yours. He’ll figure that out.”

 

“I don’t trust him,” Adam said lowly.

 

“He’s harmless, I promise,” Ronan said. “You look…God, I don’t even have the words.”

 

“When do you ever?” Adam laughed lightly, the sound of it echoing like a church bell in the theater. “You don’t look too bad yourself, Lynch.”

 

“Is that so?” Ronan drawled, leaning in to whisper in Adam’s ear. “We may just have to do a practice run of our kiss in the wings. You know, just to be prepared.”

 

“Such a good student, Lynch,” Adam grinned. “I think you may be right.”

 

As Adam took his hand and began to pull him into the shadows of the wings, Ronan couldn’t shake the feeling that he would one day die at Adam’s hand and he would happily let himself be sacrificed. He was in too deep but he was still digging.

 

* * *

 

 

Adam was having a shit day.

 

He and Ronan had slept straight through his alarm and well into first period. Ronan had suggested they just stay home, stay in bed, stay in each other’s arms for the rest of the day, and as tempting as that was, Adam couldn’t afford a day off. This sparked an early morning lover's quarrel, ending in scowls and cool denial of each other’s existence as Ronan drove Adam to school. It wasn’t the first fight they’d had since getting together weeks ago, and it certainly wasn’t the worst, but it left a bad taste in Adam’s mouth. Ronan dropped him in front of Borden House, opting to take the day off for himself even if Adam wouldn’t. The only bright spot to the morning was Ronan’s fond, exasperated grin as he kissed a still-pissed Adam chastely on the lips. It had cheered Adam up for a bit.

 

And then the day got shittier.

 

It was one thing after another. He forgot his History homework in the rush to get out the door. He spilled water down his shirt at lunch as a boy jostled him in line to pay for his obnoxiously expensive meal that he could have nixed if he’d had the time to pack a lunch that morning. Then, his statistics teacher caught him daydreaming and promptly called him out in front of the whole class, making his cheeks turn a deep scarlet red. To top it all off, he was sniffling and coughing by the time the last bell rang, a side effect of sleeping in a room with no heat with a boyfriend who hogged the covers.

 

Adam was at his locker when his day was officially shot to hell.

 

“Hey, Parrish,” J.C. drawled, leaning against the locker next to Adam’s with an unfriendly grin stretched across his face. Adam didn’t even try to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

 

“What do you want?” Adam huffed, stuffing his books in his backpack aggressively.

 

“Just want to chat,” J.C. said with all the innocence of an arsonist. “I see you and Lynch are getting pretty cozy lately.”

 

Adam’s eyes snapped to J.C.’s at that. The only ones who knew about Adam and Ronan were their closest friends. Not even Matthew knew yet. They had been careful to keep it quiet, not wanting the opinions of raven boys to taint the preciousness of what they had. So much for that.

 

J.C. rolled his eyes with no lack of disdain. “Give me a break, Parrish, it wasn’t hard to figure out. You drool over each other constantly. It’s disgusting.”

 

“Jealous?” Adam asked, slamming the door to his locker with a force Ronan would have applauded. J.C. didn’t even flinch.

 

“Not in the slightest. I just came to remind you not to get too ahead of yourself,” J.C. said.

 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means remember your place. Do you honestly think Ronan Lynch, the dreamy millionaire bad boy, will want to stay with trailer trash for the rest of his life?” Adam tried to school his face into indifference at J.C.’s words, but it must not have stuck because the boy let out a harsh laugh. “You do! That’s so sweet. Adam, listen. You’ll probably be a great choice for someone of a lower class. Hell, you might even break into middle class…but people like Ronan…people like me…we stick to our own kind at the end of the day. It’s fun to slum it on occasion, but the rich flock to the rich. Did they not teach that at mountain view high or whatever dark hole it was you crawled out of?”

 

“You’re a psychopath,” Adam hissed, slinging his back pack onto his shoulder. He began to walk away, his feet taking him as fast as possible down the hallway, but before he could break into a run, J.C. pushed the knife deeper.

 

“Does daddy know you like to kiss boys?”

 

Adam stopped in his tracks. The hallway was empty and there was no one around to hear, but it didn’t stop the embarrassment that began to ripple in Adam’s chest. He turned, looking back at a smirking J.C.

 

“I always do my homework,” J.C. said.

 

“I’m going to say this once,” Adam said, deadly calm. “You stay the fuck away from me and Ronan, or I will find a way to make your life unbearable.”

 

“I’d like to see you try, you worthless piece of-”

 

“That’s enough,” a familiar voice said with striking finality. Adam turned to find Gansey standing at the end of the hallway, almost unrecognizable with a deadly glare on his handsome face. “I’d advise you not to speak to my friend like that, J.C.” which meant _shut your fucking mouth_ in Gansey speak.

 

“C’mon,” Adam said, tugging Gansey by the arm and pulling him out of the building.

 

“We’re not finished, Parrish!’ He heard J.C. call, but it was nearly a whisper in comparison to the rushing of blood in his ears.

 

Adam collapsed into the passenger seat of the Pig, avoiding Gansey’s heavy gaze. Finally, when he trusted his voice, he spoke in a quiet whisper. “Don’t tell Ronan.”

 

“Adam, I-”

 

“Please, Gansey,” Adam pleaded, turning his severe eyes on his best friend’s worried face. “I don’t want him to worry. This stays between us. Promise?”

 

It was silent for a moment before Gansey nodded solemnly and Adam let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. Without another word, Gansey shifted into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot, heading towards Monmouth and the boy they were both keeping secrets from.

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan had kidnapped Adam directly after his shift at Boyd’s that Sunday and brought him to the barns. He had been planning it since Friday, when Adam had showed up at Monmouth distant and upset. When he tried to pry into what had happened, Adam shut down even further. Ronan didn’t want to poke the beast and upset Adam any more than he already was, so he didn’t push the subject. He just took him by the hand and led him to his bedroom, laying the boy down on his comfy mattress and pulling the covers over him despite his protests. He had slid into bed beside Adam after the complaining had ceased and the boy’s breathing had begun to slow. He had wrapped his arms around him, pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of his head and began to plan.

 

He had driven out to the barns on Saturday to begin preparing. He dug some old quilts and a picnic basket out of the attic, brought his box of dream lights in from the garage, got a head start on making food and cleaned up a bit outside. By the time the sun had set, everything was ready. The date was set.

 

Ronan made sure to jump out of the car and open Adam’s door for him. It was cheesy and stupid, but the blush that settled on Adam’s lovely cheeks was well worth it. Ronan led him out to the back, where the picnic was set up already and sat them both down on the quilt.

 

“What is this?” Adam smiled, peeking inside the picnic basket.

 

“This,” Ronan said, fishing his messy script out of the basket, “is play rehearsal.”

 

“Really?” Adam smirked, taking the glass bottle of Coke that Ronan was holding towards him. “Because this seems an awful lot like a date.”

 

Ronan tried not to blush under Adam’s scrutinizing stare, but it was hopeless. “It might be that, too. After Friday, I…I just wanted to make you happy.”

 

Adam’s smile morphed into a full-on beam. Carefully, he crawled across the quilt and braced his hands on Ronan’s thighs, giving him a kiss that made his toes curl. When he pulled away, he was grinning, biting those beautiful lips of his.

 

“You’re always surprising me, Ronan Lynch,” Adam sighed happily.

 

As Adam leaned in again to kiss him, Ronan thought he’d be happy to keep surprising Adam for the rest of his goddamn life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Adam was a wreck.

 

All throughout rehearsal that Monday afternoon, Adam was sneezing and coughing like he had contracted a new plague. His voice was scratchy, his eyes were puffy and there was a steady stream of snot pouring from his nose that he kept trying to bat away. His usually tan skin had turned pale and sickly, and beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead. Ronan had had about enough of that.

 

“Cheng, Parrish is on death’s fucking doorstep,” Ronan snapped as Adam began to hack again. “Can we just call it a day so I can take him home?”

 

“No I’m-” Sneeze, cough, sniffle. “Fine.”

 

“No, Ronan’s right,” Henry sighed, closing his script. “If a cold goes around two weeks before the show, we’ll all be in deep shit. Go home, everyone. Rest up.”

 

Ronan kept to his word, shooing Adam into the BMW and booking it to Saint Agnes, making the world quickest pit stop at CVS to pick up some medicine and tissues. Adam didn’t even complain about Ronan buying it, he just accepted it with a dopey smile and a sneeze. That’s how Ronan knew it was bad.

 

“You don’t have to stay,” Adam sniffed as Ronan put him into bed when they got to the apartment.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” was Ronan’s fond reply.

 

Despite Adam’s insistence on Ronan going home that night, the boy belligerently refused. He crawled into bed beside Adam and pulled his back against Ronan’s chest so that he’d quit bitching about not wanting to hack on him. Every time Adam coughed or sneezed, Ronan pressed a kiss to the back of his feverished neck.

 

Ronan remembered being sick when he was a child. Aurora would always come and sit on his bed, quietly humming in order to lull the pathetic boy to sleep. It always worked. Although he felt absolutely ridiculous doing it, Ronan began to hum little Irish folk songs under his breath, letting his soothing voice calm Adam. He felt the boy press a kiss to kiss hand and then his breathing was evening out, fading into a slow rhythm.

 

“Goodnight,” Ronan whispered. “I love you.”

 

He always said this to Adam once sleep had stolen his consciousness. He wasn’t yet brave enough to say it out loud when Adam could hear it. He didn’t want to destroy what they had with hasty confessions of his feelings. But boy, did he feel it. He didn’t think he had ever felt it so strongly, especially then, with the sweet, sick boy snoring lightly in his arms.

 

When Adam woke the next morning, he was still feeling like death. He tried to cover it up, tried to convince Ronan he was fine to go to school, but his boyfriend saw right through him.

 

“Not a chance, Parrish,” Ronan scoffed, pushing him back into bed as the sick boy tried to sit up. “You’re sleeping today.”

 

“I need to take notes,” Adam groaned.

 

“I’ll get them for you,” Ronan said, shrugging on his button up shirt. Adam cast him a wary glance. Ronan had never once gone to school without putting up a fight, and he had never ever offered to take Adam’s notes.

 

“You…are going to get…my notes?” Adam asked. “Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

 

“Har-har,” Ronan said, rolling his eyes fondly as he ducked to kiss Adam, who swiftly moved out of the way. Ronan’s face set in a deep frown.

 

“Give me a fucking kiss,” he whined.

 

“You’re gonna get sick,” Adam protested.

 

“Jesus weeps,” Ronan quipped, and before Adam could push him away, he ducked and pressed a kiss against Adam’s chapped lips.

 

“Ugh,” Adam groaned, although he was not entirely displeased.

 

“Go to sleep, love,” Ronan chirped, grabbing his keys off of Adam’s coffee table. “And don’t miss me too much while I’m gone.”

 

“No promises,” Adam called out, earning a laugh from Ronan as the door shut behind him. The name Ronan had called him, _Love_ , was echoing in his ear. It had startled him, as they weren’t really pet name people, but he couldn’t help but beam as warmth spread across his chest. _Love._ That word was beginning to become more and more familiar with each passing day.

 

A loud knock on the door made Adam jump, jolting him from his daydream. Rolling his eyes, he peeled himself from his bed and shuffled over to the door, wondering what Ronan had left behind. He tried to keep a grin off his face as he pulled the door open.

 

“I’m not giving you another-” Adam’s words died in his throat. It was not Ronan. Not even close.

 

“Dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just when you guys thought it was going to be a happy chapter...
> 
> I'm done with finals! YAYYYYYYY! That means more updates! YAYYYYYYY! As always, comments are appreciated and I will beg for them. Lots of love! xx


	6. Act Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert makes an ultimatum. Adam makes a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a super short chapter, but it is one of my favorites because I'm a masochist. Also, remember when I said this was going to be three chapters? Lol, now it's nine. I'm incorrigible.  
> I'd say enjoy this, but you probably won't. I'm so sorry.
> 
> Warning: violence and abuse are heavy throughout the first part of the chapter. There is a little gore. Tread with caution.

The first time Robert Parrish hit his son, Adam was just three years old.

 

They had been standing in the kitchen of their doublewide, the florescent lights flickering above them like a bad omen. Adam had dropped a glass of water, spilling its contents across the linoleum. It had been silent, only for a moment, and then the swift crack of a hand colliding against skin rang out, silencing the apology that was already halfway out of Adam’s mouth. Adam would probably remember the way that first slap felt for the rest of his life. Even more so, he would remember the unapologetic look of disdain and unadulterated anger in his father’s face as he looked down at his toddler, the bane of his existence. It was the first time Adam had been truly afraid for his life.

 

Adam couldn’t help but think of that moment as he looked at Robert Parrish fifteen years later, standing in the doorway of Adam’s apartment with the same look of disdain on his deteriorating face. Somehow, he looked even angrier now than he could remember him ever looking. Fifteen years after that first instance of abuse, Adam was once again fearing for his life.

 

“What are you doing here?” Adam distantly heard himself ask over the rushing of blood in his ears.

 

“We have to talk,” Robert growled. “Get inside.”

 

“That’s not a good idea,” Adam said quietly. “The restraining order-”

 

“I said get the _fuck_ inside,” Robert snarled through clenched teeth, taking one massive hand and shoving his soon back into his apartment. He slammed the door behind him, shifting the deadbolt lock in place. Adam wondered if the nuns would be able to hear him if he screamed, if they’d call the police, if they’d arrive before Adam lost too much blood.

 

Robert’s raspy breaths were coming out in heavy, angered puffs, visible in the freezing morning air that had seeped into the apartment. Robert looked absolutely murderous as he dug his hands into his jacket pockets. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, unfolded it and held it out between two fingers, as if he were disgusted to even be touching it. It was the show flyer, declaring the role of Juliet Capulet was to be played by Adam Parrish in big, curling letters. Robert flicked the paper at Adam.

 

“Want to tell me what the fuck that is?” Robert growled. “Want to tell me why the fuck my son is playing a fucking girl in a play? And don’t even try your bullshit with me, I read that fucking trash in high school.”

 

“How did you get this?” Adam whispered, thumbing the crinkled paper. Ronan and Adam had collected every single poster that night and had been vigilant to dispose of any other that had popped up around town.

 

“It was in my goddamn mailbox,” Robert hissed. “One of the neighbors probably saw it and got a good laugh out of it. It’s a real fucking funny joke. My son, my blood, a fag. Well, I’m not fucking laughing.”

 

Robert was screaming as he slammed the side of his fist against the wall menacingly, cracking the foundation. Adam couldn’t help but jump at the sound. So many thoughts and feelings were rushing back to him in a tsunami of fear. He stepped back, but Robert followed him, backing Adam into a corner. Adam could smell the whiskey on his rank, stale breath.

 

“It was for a project, Dad,” Adam spoke quietly. He wanted to add that it was none of his father’s business what he did. He was emancipated. However, he much preferred his bones unbroken, so he kept quiet, cowering against the wall Robert’s hot, sick breath hit his face.

Robert smacked his palm against the wall, just over Adam’s shoulder, trapping him.

 

“I said no bullshit, boy,” Robert growled lowly. Adam wished he would just break a finger, leave a bruise, get it over with and get the fuck out. But then Robert said, “Do you think I don’t know about you and that Lynch boy? The stupid faggot who prances around in skinny jeans who drives that dead fucker’s car around like he owns half of goddamn Henrietta?”

 

Adam snapped then. Maybe months ago, weeks even, he would have kept quiet, would have let Robert talk. But things were different now and he could no longer keep the fire at bay.

 

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Adam spit. He watched, entranced, as a myriad of emotions passed over Robert’s face. Shock, indignation, disgust and fury. Hot, blinding fury. However, even as Robert reared his fist back and slung it forward, cracking the bone of Adam’s nose, Adam didn’t regret his words. Robert could pick at him. Robert could call Adam all the names he wanted to, could hit and kick and cuss to his heart’s desire, but he wouldn’t talk about Ronan. Adam would not let him touch the last pure thing in his life.

 

And hit and kick Robert did. Robert got Adam to the floor with his fists and then began to kick, his steel-toed boot thudding against Adam’s gut. When he had hurt Adam enough to be satisfied, he stared down at the boy he’d raised, huddled in the corner, a flashback to a time they both thought had passed. The only sounds in the room were the heavy breaths both men were huffing and the almost imperceptible whimpering of a boy in more pain than he would admit.

 

Robert pointed one thick finger at Adam, looking lethal and absolutely serious. “You’re going to quit that fucking show and stop seeing that disgusting prick, or I’m going to take a crowbar and bash that little fucker’s head in, just like his pop.”

 

Then, without another word, Robert Parrish walked out the door, whistling an off-key tune as he clomped down the creaky stairs, and Adam promptly vomited into the nearest waste basket.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ronan, eat like a civilized human, _please,_ ” Gansey begged, watching as Ronan made a snow man out of the mashed potatoes and carrots on his tray.

 

“Not hungry,” Ronan grunted, adding buttons to his snow man with peas.

 

“He’s just bored, Richard man,” Henry said, plopping down beside Gansey with a tray of vegan specialties. He pouted mockingly at Ronan. “Adam is sick.”

 

“How was he when you left?” Gansey asked.

 

“Stubborn,” Ronan sighed, pushing his tray away from him in order to appease Gansey, “but better, I guess. I little less croaky. He still had a fever.”

 

“Sleepovers already, Lynch?” Henry gasped dramatically. “I’m scandalized.”

 

“Fuck off, Cheng,” Ronan said without much heat.

 

“Ronan, are you being careful?” Gansey asked, suddenly serious. “I’ve been reading up on homosexual sex and-”

 

“Dick, if you want to live, don’t finish that sentence,” Ronan warned gravely, glowering at the boy who had the grace to look chastened. “We’re just sleeping. Not…that.”

 

“Not yet,” Henry grinned. He slapped a palm against his chest, batting his eyelashes playfully. “I suppose you have me to thank for this. I can be an excellent matchmaker when I want to be.”

 

“I was in love with Adam before you cast your show, Cheng,” Ronan said absently, rolling his eyes. It was only when he looked back at his friends and saw their gaping mouths that he realized what he’d said. “Shit.”

 

“Oh my God,” Henry said.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Gansey whispered.

 

“Why don’t we just call on the Holy Spirit and bring the whole trinity into this?” Ronan quipped, but the blush spreading across his cheeks softened his words tremendously. Gansey leaned across the table, his hazel eyes wide and bright.

 

“Have you told Adam?” Gansey asked.

 

“Well…kind of?”

 

“Kind of?” Henry said, popping a piece of vegan cookie in his mouth.

 

“He wasn’t exactly conscious,” Ronan admitted bashfully. Gansey’s face softened as he reached across the table to pat Ronan’s hand.

 

“Ronan, I think-”

 

Gansey was interrupted by the shrill shriek of the murder squash song coming from Ronan’s pants. Even Ronan jumped at the volume. He usually kept his phone on silent, ignoring it like the plague, but he wanted Adam to be able to call him. Sure enough, it was Adam’s name and picture flashing on his screen, his blue eyes sparkling as he made a goofy face for the camera.

 

“Speak of the devil,” Ronan muttered, swiping his thumb across the screen and pressing it to his ear. “Hey, we were just-”

 

“Ronan?” Adam gasped. Ronan felt his heart lurch in his chest at the sound of Adam’s poorly disguised panic.

 

“What’s wrong?” Ronan asked, turning away from Gansey and Henry for privacy. He plugged his other ear so he could block out the sounds of the loud cafeteria, focusing on Adam’s ragged breathing instead.

 

“I need you to come get me, okay?” Adam said as calmly as he could. “And I need you not to freak out and speed. I’m fine, I just need you.”

 

“I’m on my way,” Ronan promised, snatching his keys from the table as Gansey and Henry peered up at him with curious eyes. “I’ll be there in ten.”

 

“Okay,” Adam said and then there was a click and three consecutive beeps, signifying the end of the call.

 

“Is Adam okay?” Gansey asked, worry seeping into his tone.

 

“I don’t know,” Ronan grunted.

 

To his credit, Gansey didn’t even try to keep Ronan from going. He just got out his phone and started dialing the front office.

 

“I’ll tell the office you’re sick,” Gansey promised. “Go.”

 

Ronan didn’t need to be told twice.

 

Ronan tried to follow Adam’s instructions, but as his anxiety began to peak, so did his speed. He wound his way through the icy Henrietta roads, whipping around corners and blowing through stop signs. Fuck the laws, Adam needed him.

 

He took the stairs of Saint Agnes two at a time, not even bothering to knock on the door as he burst in like a bat out of hell. “Adam?!”  


“Bathroom!” a muffled voice called out. Ronan followed it, rounding the corner into his bedroom and yanking the bathroom door handle, growling in frustration.

 

“Open the door, Adam,” Ronan implored. From behind the door, he heard Adam sigh.

 

“Ronan?” Adam said in a small, heartbreaking voice. “Promise me you won’t get mad or upset or go ballistic.”

 

“What?” Ronan said. “Why would I be mad?”

 

“Just promise me, Ro,” Adam begged. “I won’t open until you do.”

 

Well then Ronan didn’t really have much of a choice, did he? “I promise, Adam. Open up.”

 

There was a pause and then a small click as the lock slid from its place. Ronan wasted no time bracing himself as he yanked the door open. He would regret that.

 

“ _Holy fucking shit,_ ” Ronan breathed, taking in his boyfriend’s condition.

 

Adam stood in front of him looking miserable, holding on to a bloody washcloth in one hand and a bag of frozen peas in the other. His face was a mottled, bloody mess, his nose already bruising. It was very obviously broken, slightly crooked in comparison to the perfect symmetrical appendage that was there that morning when Ronan had last seen him. His arms were darkening with bruises and had long scratches running up and down them in jagged lines.

 

“Remember you promised not to be mad,” Adam whispered, tossing the bloody rag in the sink. Adam’s eyes were puffy, whether that be from crying or sickness Ronan wasn’t sure, but he was sure about one thing: he was going to have to break his fucking promise. He was livid.

 

“Christ, Adam, what the fuck,” Ronan gasped, taking his boyfriend’s face in his hands gingerly. Adam hissed at the contact, but when Ronan went to pull away, he tugged his hands back. Pain or no pain, he wanted Ronan’s soft and gentle touch more than anything in that moment. “How did this happen?”

 

Adam was quiet for a moment as he dragged a hand across his nose, smearing blood everywhere. His muddled blue eyes were fixed on the wall just over Ronan’s shoulder as he spoke finally. “He found the flyers, Ronan.”

 

Ronan felt his stomach drop to the floor as those words sunk in. Suddenly, it was so clear. How could he not have guessed? The blood, the bruises, the helpless and frightened look on Adam’s face? It was a scene straight from his nightmares, straight from the past.

 

“I’m going to kill him,” Ronan growled, already starting towards the door. Adam lurched to grab onto him. “He’s fucking dead!”

 

“Ronan, no-”

 

“He doesn’t get to fucking lay his hands on you!” Ronan shouted, not turning away from his mission. “Stay here, I’m going to-”

 

“ _Ronan,_ ” Adam said and it was the single most heartbreaking sound Ronan had ever heard. Ronan had seen a lot in his life: night terrors, his father’s corpse, his mother’s corpse, Kavinsky burning like a fucking kabob. What was worse than all of that was the tears shining in Adam’s bloodshot eyes. He had never seen Adam cry.

 

“Adam-”

 

“Please don’t go,” Adam implored, a sob ripping from his throat. “Don’t leave me alone, Ronan, _please_. I need you.”

 

“I’m here,” Ronan amended quickly, drawing the trembling boy into his arms. He didn’t feel much steadier, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was making Adam feel safe. “I’m here, baby, I’m here.”

 

“Stay,” Adam whispered into his collarbones.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ronan promised, rubbing a comforting hand up and down Adam’s rattling back. “I’m staying right here.”

 

“Hold onto me,” Adam choked.

 

“I am.”

 

_“Tighter.”_

 

They stood there, clutching to each other desperately. Ronan felt absolutely sick. How had he let this happen? How had he allowed himself to let down his guard? This was what happened when Ronan touched things. They bled.

 

“Love,” Ronan said after what might have been minutes but could have also been hours. “You have to go to the hospital.”

 

“No,” Adam said stubbornly.

 

“Yes,” Ronan fought back. “I know a broken nose when I see one. It won’t heal right if you don’t go and then I’ll be stuck looking at your ugly mug for the rest of my life.”

 

This startled a wet laugh out of Adam as he pulled back to look at Ronan. It physically hurt Ronan to look at Adam, but he held the boys gaze firmly and unflinchingly.

 

“We can’t tell the police, Ronan,” Adam said. Ronan opened his mouth the argue vehemently that yes they fucking _could_ , but Adam clamped a hand over his mouth. “This is my choice. If you want me to go the hospital, it is under the pretense that I got mugged.”

 

“Why are you going to let him get away with this?” Ronan balked. “Why are you just laying down and taking it? He could go to jail for this!”  


“Like he did last time?” Adam hissed. “They’re never going to put him away on just some bruises and testimony. I want to move on. You and I are going to stay away from him and get passed this.”

 

“But-”

 

“ _Ronan,_ ” Adam said with finality. “My. Choice.”

 

It was pin-drop silent for a moment as Ronan weighed his options, but it was clear he didn’t have many. It made his blood boil to give up like that, but he had no choice. There was nothing he wouldn’t do if Adam asked him to do it. It was completely unfair. It was love in its greatest form.

 

“Let’s go,” Ronan whispered, pressing his lips to Adam’s temple, the only unmarred spot on his beautiful face.

 

“Wait…” Adam said, looking around with a look of confusion on his face. Did he have a concussion?

 

“What?” Ronan ask. Adam’s gaze snapped up to his, those blue eyes deadly serious.

 

“Did you get my Latin notes?”

 

* * *

 

Gansey, Blue and Noah were all at Monmouth when Adam and Ronan got home from the hospital that night. Ronan had spoken to Gansey over the phone while Adam was getting an x-ray. He told him what he’d known: Adam had was very slightly concussed, had a broken nose and a cracked rib and bruising all over his body. He’d live, but it wasn’t pretty. Gansey had insisted he come down to the hospital, but Ronan convinced him not to. Adam would lose it if Gansey saw him in his current state. He didn’t want pity. He just wanted to be in and out, and Ronan would give that to him. He just barely convinced Gansey, promising he would see Adam later in the night and warning him not to look pitying when he did. Gansey was hardly managing.

 

“Is there anything we can do?” Gansey asked after Adam had finished telling the story in a monotone, passionless voice. Adam was quick to shake his head.

 

“I just need sleep,” Adam sighed with exhaustion. “I’m still a little under the weather.”

 

“Oh, Adam…” Blue said sadly, reaching a tentative hand out to touch Adam’s bruises but pulling it back before they grazed the purpling skin.

 

“I’m okay,” Adam said stiffly, his blush showing just barely under his bruises. Blue ignored it, wrapping her arms gingerly around his middle.

 

“Love you…even when you’re a stubborn ass,” Blue huffed, pressing her nose into his sternum. Ronan’s ears rang at that word. How easy it was for Blue to speak of love…he wished he could find the courage to tell Adam that he loved him, loved him with the passion of a raging ocean, of a million burning suns. He couldn’t. Not yet. Not tonight. Adam needed rest. Still, he couldn’t help but think about what could have happened, had Robert Parrish not stopped, had he finally sent his only son, Ronan’s only love, to the grave with an unapologetic shove.

 

Ronan shivered at the thought. It wouldn’t happen. Not on his watch. Not anymore.

 

Adam must have noticed Ronan shivering because his fair eyebrows furrowed. He reached a hand out towards Ronan, who took it as if it were his only lifeline. Adam turned to Gansey and Blue and gave them a small, embarrassed smile. “Thank you guys for caring.”

 

“Oh, pshaw,” Blue huffed, crossing her arms as she leaned against Gansey.

 

“Goodnight Adam,” Gansey smiled. “If you need anything, you just come get me, I’ll be awake.”

 

“Not necessary, Dick” Ronan quipped halfheartedly. “His knight in shining armor will be sleeping right next to him.”

 

Adam rolled his eyes as he tugged Ronan into his room. Adam loved few places more than he loved Ronan’s room at Monmouth. It sang of Ronan, dark and mysterious but so overwhelmingly beautiful and strange. Dream objects were sprawled everywhere, taking up much of the room and above them, stuck to the ceiling, were dream stars, not the fake greenish ones you’d see at the dollar store, but real, glittering stars, aligning into made up constellations. This, Adam thought, was the most fitting for Ronan. Hidden light in was seems at first glance to be total darkness.

 

Ronan helped Adam change, gingerly stripping him so he didn’t hurt the bruised boy. This was not how Ronan had imagine stripping Adam for the first time, but there was something so intimate to it. Adam held his heavy gaze as Ronan pulled off clothing, his eyes unflinching and unapologetic as they searched Ronan’s soul for an answer to a question Ronan hadn’t been asked.

 

“What?” Ronan asked, feeling unnerved under the weight of Adam’s gaze. Adam shook his head, his eyes still lost in Ronan’s, before leaning forward to brush a soft kiss against Ronan’s lips.

 

“I just…” Adam whispered against his lips, pulling back only slightly. “I need you to know that you are the brightest part of my life.”

 

Ronan tried to gulp down the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He wanted to say it, wanted to just scream it from the rooftops. He wanted to press his lips against every bruise, every scratch, every scar and whisper his devotion against the marked skin. He wanted to look into Adam’s blue eyes, a blurry reflection of his own and speak of love, love, _love._

 

“You’re going to ruin my street cred, Parrish” Ronan grinned, trying to be convincing in his put-on lightness. It must have worked, because Adam just huffed a small laugh, pulling Ronan down onto his bed to lay next to him. Ronan kicked off his khakis and shoes and shrugged off his dress shirt and sweater, leaving him in just boxers beside Adam, who was only slightly more clothed.

 

Ronan gently pulled Adam impossibly close, encasing his in his strong arms. There, no one would touch him. He could keep him safe. He pressed light kisses all over Adam’s bruised face, leaving no surface untouched, and when he was done, he threaded his fingers through Adam’s sandy hair. He felt Adam wrap his arms around him as his breathing slowed. Ronan would not be getting any sleep. He would sit up watching the door, waiting for Robert Parrish to burst in, daring him to even try to lay another finger on the boy he loved. Promise or no promise, he would destroy that man if he ever touched Adam again.

 

But when Ronan looked down to the sleeping boy in his arms, all violent thoughts evaporated. Quietly, he whispered the words he had been whispering every night for months, since the very first time Adam slept pressed against him in the cabin. “I love you, Adam,” Ronan whispered, “more than I could ever tell you. More than you will ever know.”

 

Outwardly, Adam didn’t even twitch at this, so Ronan settled back and got comfortable, staring at the ceiling of stars. But in his arms, Adam was awake, hiding behind closed eyelids as his father’s words repeated over and over in his mind. “ _You’re going to quit that fucking show and stop seeing that disgusting prick, or I’m going to take a crowbar and bash that little fucker’s head in, just like his pop.”_

The thing was, that wasn’t an empty threat. The thing was, Adam knew his father would do it. The thing was, he wouldn’t let it happen, would do everything in his power to prevent it from happening. The thing was, Adam was in love with Ronan. He had known it, distantly, all that time, but just then, as the words he had never heard were spoken unknowingly into his heart, he felt it bloom in his chest, like a thousand flowers in a meadow opening all at once. His heart sang of love, love, _love_. And because he loved Ronan, loved him with the passion of a raging ocean, of a million burning suns, he wouldn’t risk his safety. He wouldn’t risk his life.

 

In that moment, Adam knew what he had to do. He had to quit the show… and then he had to break up with Ronan.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I have no excuses for my behavior. I'm just...so sorry. 
> 
> Leave me some comments if you want to yell at me or cry with me. xx


	7. Act Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bitter breakup. Another secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.

 

 

After brooding over it for a considerable amount of time, Ronan had decided he was going to tell Adam that he was in love with him.

 

There were a few deciding factors at play, the first being that it was getting too goddamn hard to keep a secret. It was right there, on the tip of his traitorous tongue, at all times. It was there when Adam came home from a shift at Boyd’s, covered in oil and dead on his feet, and promptly fell into Ronan’s waiting arms. It was there when Adam laughed, a wild and startling thing, or when he smiled, a soft and precious rarity that had become less rare in the passing months. It was there when Adam growled at him after Ronan had annoyed him to his breaking point. It was there when he came over to Adam’s apartment at night and found his boyfriend half asleep on the far side of the bed, holding the covers up with one hand for Ronan to slip under, always keeping a place for Ronan by his side. And God, it was always there when Adam acted. He was more tangible, more lively, more intense than ever when commanding the stage, waltzing around in his practice skirt like he owned the whole goddamn world; and he really did. When Adam stepped on stage, he had everyone in the palm of his hand.

 

The second reason for telling Adam was the utter and devastating lack of love in Adam’s life. Once, when they were lying in bed a few months back, molded together in a tight embrace, Adam had told Ronan that he had never once heard his parents say the words “I love you.” Not to him, not to each other, not to anyone. He hadn’t realized how much this had affected him until Gansey’s tongue and suddenly, he had ached for it. Ronan had almost confessed in that moment, but he didn’t want Adam to feel like he was just saying it out of pity, even though his heart _had_ cracked upon hearing the tightness in Adam’s quiet voice. When he told Adam, Ronan wanted him to know it was real; he wanted him to _feel_ it. Adam didn’t consider himself worthy of true and honest love, and Ronan wanted to absolutely shatter that mindset. So he waited and held on tightly to those words, because Ronan loved Adam Parrish like the moon loved the sun; he would be willing to fall for him just so he could rise.

 

And finally, Ronan wanted to tell Adam because he wasn’t afraid of the words anymore. For years now, he had felt this overwhelming and all-consuming want for Adam. It had been there, burning in his gut like a wildfire from the moment he met the lanky, freckled boy. He had been so afraid of it at first, trying everything in his power to put that fire out. He focused on Adam’s flaws. He made fun of Adam, hoping to bring out an ugly side of him. He convinced himself that Adam was an asshole, white trash, a menace, a _burden_. But the first time Adam laughed, a real, full, belly laugh, the sound had ricocheted like a bullet, bouncing off of Ronan’s eardrums and landing in his heart. He had been doomed to love Adam fiercely and quietly ever since. But when Adam kissed him for the first time on that rickety old dock, all gorgeous hands and eyes and lips, the love had grown louder; and by the time Ronan had found Adam in his apartment, bloody and bruised and begging for him to _stay_ , it was screaming, a noise Ronan couldn’t ignore. Ronan could have lost Adam that day, had his father kicked a little harder, used a blunt object instead of his softer fists. He was no longer afraid of his love, he was just afraid of Adam going another second without knowing he had it.

 

“Adam?” Ronan called out into the garage. He could hear the sound of a wrench twisting but his boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

 

There was a sickening thud, a sharp hiss and then, “yeah- fuck- I’m here!”

 

Adam rolled out from underneath an old Ford pickup truck, clutching his head. Ronan winced as Adam pulled it away to reveal a small splattering of blood. “Shit,” Ronan said eloquently as he hurried over to crouch in front of Adam. “First aid kit?”

 

“On the shelf next to the big box of bolts,” Adam said, his eyes squeezed shut. Ronan fetched the first aid kit and knelt next to Adam, spreading some disinfectant cream across the shallow gash as gingerly as he could. He made quick work of bandaging, something he’d learned to do from personal experience.

 

“Sorry,” Ronan smiled before pressing a soft kiss to the Band-Aid. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

“It’s alright,” Adam said, chasing Ronan’s lips. This had become a regular occurrence as of the late. Suddenly, Adam’s languid and intimate kisses had turned into something hungrier, as if he was afraid he’d never kiss Ronan again and was hoarding all the affection he could get.

 

Ronan broke away first, panting and grinning like he’d just won a race. “You almost done here?”

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Adam sighed, wiping his hands on his coveralls and tossing his wrench into his toolbox. “I’m glad you came by. I…I wanted to talk to you.”

 

“I wanted to talk to you, too,” Ronan said. “I got food. Want to take a drive?”

 

Adam’s answering smile was affectionate, if not a little wobbly. “Sure.”

 

Ronan headed down back roads, following a path so familiar, he could have driven it in his sleep. Adam probably could have, too. They had both spent so much time there, side by side, learning the way of the land and falling in love. It felt like the old forest was as much a part of their love story as they were.

 

Cabeswater welcomed them with a relieved sigh. The trees rustled above them _. Magi,_ they sighed, _Greywaren._ They had been gone so long, with the play and work and school. Being there, in the warm embrace of Cabeswater’s summer, they felt like they were home again.

 

They found a place by a giant oak tree to sit, spreading out the overzealous feast of burgers, chicken tenders, shakes, sodas and fries Ronan had brought along. Ronan had anticipated a lecture about spending from Adam, but the boy just sat there, looking distant and dazed as he hurriedly put fries in his mouth.

 

They ate in near silence, watching as the sun began to dip behind the tree, splashing the sky in a rose gold tint that could only look so beautiful in Cabeswater. Growing up, Ronan would sit on the couch with his mom as she folded clothes, watching the Hallmark channel out of boredom. In every cheesy, cliché chick flick, there was a moment when the guy told the girl that he loved her. This moment was always set against a beautiful backdrop and there was always a rightness to it, as if there was no other moment they could have said it that would have compared to that moment. This was it. This was Ronan’s moment.

 

“So, I got you something,” Ronan said shyly, sifting through his jacket pockets for his surprise.

 

“Ronan…” Adam sighed.

 

“It’s nothing big, I promise,” Ronan said, pulling a closed fist out of his pocket and placing its contents in Adam’s hand. “I just wanted you to have it.”

 

Adam stared at the worn leather bracelet in his hands with a look of pure wonder on his beautiful face. It made Ronan’s heart swell with love as he watched Adam’s eyes begin to water. “Ronan, I can’t take this.”

 

“Well, I’m not taking it back,” Ronan huffed. “I want you to have it. I know it’s a little archaic, like…pinning your boyfriend to show you’re going steady, but…it would really mean a lot to me if you wore it.”

 

Adam was quiet for a moment, still staring at the bracelet. It had teeth marks on it and probably smelled like saliva and gasoline, but Adam held it like it was the most precious thing he’d ever been given. After a moment, he slid it onto his wrist, gazing down at it affectionately. He leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Ronan’s lips. “I really love it. Thank you, Ro.”

 

This was it. This was Ronan’s moment.

 

“Adam,” Ronan said after a moment, clearing his throat. “After my dad died, I never really thought I’d be truly happy again. The pain was everywhere, taking over my entire body limb by limb until I…well, I didn’t even want to be alive. Breathing hurt. Sleeping hurt. Even thinking just…hurt.”

 

Adam’s eyes looked so sad as he took Ronan’s trembling hand in his. “Ronan-”

 

“But then,” Ronan went on. “This really beautiful boy transferred to my school and sat right in front of me in Latin class. He was nerdy and obnoxious and a complete know-it-all-”

 

“Gee, thanks-” Adam quipped dryly.

 

“But he was also brave,” Ronan said, his voice dropping low, “and so kind and smart. He could really make me laugh when the days seemed unbearable and when he smiled…it made me happy. It was the first piece of genuine happiness I’d had in months.”

 

“Sounds like a stand-up guy,” Adam joked, but his nervous smile and the tremble in his voice betrayed him.

 

“He is,” Ronan huffed a breath laugh, feeling some of his nerves dissipate. “I guess that’s why I fell in love with him.”

 

There was nothing but radio-silence as the easy smile fell away from Adam’s face. The tension hung thick in the air, so stifling it felt like you could choke on it if you breathed it in. Ronan watched, heart pounding, as Adam’s entire body went stone-still, his eyes clouding over.

 

Just when Ronan thought he had broken Adam somehow, sent him into shock or fucking cardiac arrest, Adam slowly inched forward and crawled into Ronan’s lap, curling his long legs around Ronan’s waist and wrapping his arms around his neck and God, that was home for Ronan. There, in that warm embrace, there was solace, there was wonder, there was love. Ronan thought he could happily stay like that, wrapped around Adam, feeling the boy’s heart thud wildly against his chest.

 

And then he felt the shake.

 

“Adam…” Ronan started warily. “Are you…crying?”

 

It was silent, just for a moment, and then Adam sniffed quietly. “Yes.”

 

Okay, Ronan was officially confused. He hadn’t really thought his mediocre speech had been tear-inducing. It was B-level, at best. Still, he rubbed a comforting hand up and down Adam’s trembling back and kissed the shell of his red ear. “Why’s that, baby?”

 

It was the fond pet-name that broke the dam.

 

“Because,” Adam sobbed. “I don’t want to do this.”

 

“Do what?” Ronan asked, feeling a pang of fear and guilt ripple inside his chest. “Adam, if you aren’t ready, that’s okay. Take your time, I’m-”

 

“I think we need to break up.”

 

The words hit Ronan like a tidal wave. That, of all things, was not what he expected.

 

“What?” Ronan said dumbly, pulling back to see Adam’s red, puffy, tear-stained face in full view.

 

“I’m so sorry, Ro,” Adam hiccupped.

 

“I don’t…” Ronan didn’t really know where to begin. It felt as if his entire brain had decided to turn off. In fact, the only part of his body that seemed to be functioning was his heart, and he wished to God that would turn off too because he could feel in cracking with every passing second. “I don’t understand.”

“I just can’t shake the feeling that we’d be better off as friends,” Adam said mournfully, avoiding Ronan’s searching gaze at all costs.

 

“How long have you felt that way?” Ronan asked.

 

“A few days, I guess,” Adam sighed, dropping his forehead onto Ronan’s shoulder. A miniscule shred of hope began to bloom in Ronan’s chest. To him, there was still a chance.

 

“That’s not that long, Adam,” Ronan said, his voice pleading. “Why don’t we just take some time apart, come back together when our heads are clear?”

 

“Ronan-”

 

“I swear to God, Adam, I won’t talk to you or get in your way for however long you need,” Ronan promised hopefully. “I won’t even breath in your general direction if you give this the chance it deserves.”

 

“Ronan, stop-”

 

“Don’t give this up, Adam,” Ronan begged. “Don’t let go of what we have because of some fleeting insecurities that in a few days might seem like-”

 

“You aren’t _listening!_ ” Adam roared, pulling away from Ronan and stumbling off his lap in an instant. “Don’t you _get_ it? I don’t want to be with you, Ronan!”

 

And just like that, all the hope was squeezed from Ronan’s heart, cold and furious anger quickly seeping in to take its place.

 

Ronan was still sitting in stunned silence as Adam went on. “I’ve thought about it and I’ve made my decision. I’m sorry if it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s what is best for you. I wouldn’t be doing it if it wasn’t.”

 

“…So that’s it, then?” Ronan asked with a cold laugh. “It’s over? You’re ending an entire relationship because it’s what’s best for _me?_ What the _fuck_ is that supposed to mean?”

 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Adam said quietly, his voice a monotone grumble.

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t understand? Because I’m stupid, right?” Ronan challenged, suddenly overwhelmed with the white-flame fury that was consuming his entire body. “I’m too goddamn dumb to make my own decisions, so you made them for both of us. That is such _bullshit,_ Parrish. Why don’t I have a goddamn say in this?”

 

Adam visibly flinched at the reappearance of his last name, a harsh reminder of a terrible past that was quickly making a comeback. “You know I think you’re brilliant, Ronan.”

 

“Obviously not,” Ronan growled ferociously, jumping up from the ground. “Tell me why you’re really doing this, Parrish. The truth.”

 

“It is the truth, Ronan!” Adam cried helplessly, his eyes becoming glassy once again. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I want to hurt you? This is what is best for you. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s the truth!”

 

“It’s a lie!” Ronan screamed. Above them, Cabeswater began to stir unhappily. Dark clouds were quickly rolling in, warning signs of a storm. “And it isn’t enough. After all we’ve been through, after what I _just_ told you, is a lie _really_ all you can spare for me?”

 

Adam was quiet for a moment as two tears dripped down his solemn, resigned face. Thunder rumbled from the angry skies as he looked at Ronan, the center of his world, and braced for the jarring disconnect. “It’s all I have, Ronan.”

 

As the rain began to fall on them, softly at first and then an overwhelming downpour, Adam watched as the fury slid off Ronan’s face and turned into cold indifference. It was the same way he used to look at him, before they were lovers, before they were friends, before their hearts became one singular creature. It was a look that sang of hatred and unkindness, and Adam knew he deserved it.

 

“I’ll drive you home,” Ronan replied curtly, almost robotically, as he began to stalk away. Above them, the sky roared in anger. _Magi,_ it cried, _quomodo te?_

“It had to be done,” Adam whispered feverishly as soon as Ronan was safely out of earshot. “I had to keep him safe.”

 

 _Nobis nocere_ , Cabeswater sighed unhappily.

 

“Me too,” Adam whispered as new tears began to fall.

 

The car ride home was dead silent. Rain had begun to fall outside of Cabeswater, too, and the sound of it thundering against the windshield was deafening. Adam was glad. Anything was better than Ronan’s cool silence.

 

As Ronan pulled into Saint Agnes, Adam was struck with the thought that it could be the last time they spoke. His entire body ached with the weight of that, his heart begging for him to turn to Ronan, take his hand and tell him he didn’t mean anything he had said. His head told him to keep lying. His whole body was at war.

 

Adam slipped the bracelet from his wrist, already feeling its absence as if he had been wearing it all his life, and held it towards Ronan. "Here."

 

Ronan hardly glanced at it. "I don't want that anymore, Parrish. You keep it. It's still yours."

 

Somehow, that simple statement seemed weighted. 

 

“Look,” Ronan said stiffly. “I don’t want this to affect the play. Henry has worked too hard on it.”

 

“I…” Adam didn’t want to speak. He didn’t want to own up to what he had done. He didn’t want to disappoint Ronan even more. “I quit the play this morning, Ronan.”

 

Henry had been completely distraught when Adam went over to Litchfield to break the news that morning. He had paced about wildly, almost in tears at the prospect of his lead actor quitting a week before the play. It was almost unheard of. Then, Adam quietly and calmly explained the threat Robert Parrish had laid at his son’s feet just days before and Henry had stopped pacing, stopped crying, stopped talking. He had taken Adam’s hand, looked him in the eye and said, “there are understudies for a reason, Adam.” Then, Adam had started crying. He was doing a lot of that lately.

Ronan was not nearly as sympathetic. Adam watched as his handsome face twisted into a look of unmasked disgust. He looked at Adam like he was a perfect stranger. He might as well have been. Ronan didn’t know who he was anymore.

 

“I took you for a lot of things, Parrish,” Ronan said coolly, staring out the windshield at the rain. “A coward was not one of them.”

 

“Then I guess you never really knew me at all,” Adam whispered, feeling his throat begin to close.

 

“I guess not,” Ronan said. Then, without another word, he leaned across Adam’s lap and opened his door for him, a quiet but throttling dismissal.

 

Adam watched the BMW drive away from the window of his cold, dreary apartment. Ronan had sat there for twenty minutes and for every single second, Adam hoped he would get out of the car, come upstairs, take Adam in his arms and squeeze the whole truth out of him. He didn’t. After those twenty minutes, the bright headlights turned away, leaving Adam in the dark cold of night, alone for the first time in months. He had lost his passion, he had lost his lover, he had lost his best friend.

 

And then, Adam Parrish lost his mind.

 

* * *

 

 

Gansey had been gluing together a cardboard version of the Fresh Eagle supermarket when he heard the BMW’s door slam shut. He waited to hear the thunderous sound of Ronan’s heavy boots pounding against the creaky stairs, but it never came. Instead, something much softer was heard, like tiptoes. Gnasey put down his crazy glue, put down the Fresh Eagle and braced for the inevitable strike of another Ronan Lynch prank. But when Ronan finally opened the door, Gansey’s stomach dropped through the floor.

 

“Ronan?” Gansey said softly, taking in the state of his friend. He was wounded, wasn’t drunk, but he eyes were far away and so terribly glassy. When they looked up at Gansey, he immediately knew, just as a brother would, that Ronan was mourning. So he stood, walked over to the quivering elk of a boy and wrapped himself around him, pulling his shaved head down to rest in the crook of his neck. He distantly felt the tears begin to soak through his polo, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the trembling weight in his arms.  

 

Not for the first time and not for the last, Ronan cried in Gansey’s arms.

  

* * *

 

 

Gansey was exhausted the next morning when he slipped out of Monmouth at an ungodly hour, hesitantly leaving a sniffling Ronan curled up in his bed. After a night of holding Ronan as he wept without restraint, Gansey had finally gotten him to shut his eyes and rest. It was a fight, but soon enough, Ronan had slipped into a tentative sleep and Gansey had left for school, an hour earlier than usual. Another sleepless night, another friend to interrogate.

 

To say Gansey was angry with Adam was the understatement of the century. He was _livid_. He hadn’t seen Ronan so distraught since he had found Niall Lynch bludgeoned in his driveway. What the hell had Adam done, and why the hell had he done it? Gansey was oblivious sometimes, sure, but he had seen the way Adam looked at Ronan, like his whole world revolved around the crass boy they all loved. It was the same way he looked at Blue. It was love. It was pure, true love and even he could see that. Well, he was going to get some answers, come what may. Never underestimate a Gansey on a mission to get information.

 

“Adam!” Gansey called gruffly, thumping on the door of the boy’s apartment. “Open up, Adam! We’re gonna have a chat.”

 

He knocked again and again and again, but there was no reply, not even a sound. Had Adam picked up a shift? He never worked on Monday mornings. He tried again, and then when he thought he was going to risk waking the poor nuns, he simply turned the doorknob and found that it was left open.

 

“Adam, what the fuck did you- oh.”

 

Gansey’s breath caught in his throat as he surveyed the room. There were books strewn everywhere, some with pages ripped from their bindings and crumbled into discarded wads. In the kitchen, what must have once been four or five dishes lay shattered on the floor. A lamp had been tossed across the room at the farthest wall, the broken remnants scattered everywhere. Clothes had been pulled from their respective drawers and tossed angrily across the apartment. Adam’s backpack had been turned over. And there, at Gansey’s feet, a framed picture of their gang, with Adam smiling adoringly up at Ronan like he was the goddamn _moon_ , was smashed to pieces.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Gansey breathed.

 

A small sniffle came from Adam’s bed, where Gansey found an unmoving lump hidden under a mass of blankets. He couldn’t blame Adam. He could see his own breath.

 

 _This place is a wasteland_ , Gansey thought as he went to sit on the side of his friend’s bed. He placed a gentle hand on Adam’s back and peeled the covers away from his face, inhaling sharply at the sight. Adam looked like actual death, not quite unlike the lump Gansey had just left under Ronan’s covers. Adam’s whole face was red and feverish, besides the few spots that were still muddled with bruises. His lips were as dry as the Sahara, cracked and bleeding as if he had been biting them all night. To his chest, he was cradling a thin strap of leather and it took Gansey a minute to place it as one of Ronan's bracelets. Adam's eyes were bloodshot, puffy and practically pouring tears, a damp puddling collecting at the base of his skull. Still, his face was unfeeling, distant and cold. It made Gansey feel queasy. He had seen Adam Parrish at the heels of death, bruised and bloody and half way to heaven. Still, even then, he was a force to be reckoned with. He had never, ever seen him this lifeless.

 

“Adam…” Gansey said quietly, beginning to rub his friends back. He simply could not be mad at him, not when he was in this state. “Adam, will you look at me?”

 

Gansey watched, horrified, as Adam’s gaze slowly turned to meet his. Behind Adam’s eyes, there was nothing, just an unending blankness that made Gansey’s skin crawl. When he spoke, his was a barely-there rasp. “Is Ronan okay?”

 

And there it was. All Gansey needed to know about Adam’s feelings was behind that one question.

 

“He’s not great, but he’s fine,” Gansey whispered, smoothing the matted hair away from Adam’s face. “Why did you do it Adam?”

 

It took whole minutes for Adam to formulate a response. Then, just as Gansey thought he’d lost him again, Adam spoke. “I did it because I love him,” Adam said. “And when I love something, it dies.”

 

“Adam-”

 

“Don’t tell him, Gansey,” Adam whispered, the barest hint of emotion seeping into his tone. “If you love either of us, you’ll keep this to yourself.”

 

“We’re keeping a lot of secrets from him, Adam,” Gansey said. “But at what cost?”

 

At this, Adam laughed, a horrible, humorless thing that horrified Gansey.

 

“What do I care?” Adam gasped. “I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah. Still, no excuses. 
> 
> BUT, to make it up to you, there will be an extra chapter! Ten chapters! Oh God! This was supposed to be a oneshot! I'm still incorrigible! 
> 
> As always, leave me some comments, I love hearing from you guys. xx


	8. Act Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan learns the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys...I am so sorry for how late this is. Truth is, I'm really losing some steam with this story. This chapter is mostly filler and I'm not 100% on board with it, but it's all I have and I wanted to get something out to y'all because I've made you wait for too long. The next chapter will get long and crazy, so sit tight. In the meantime, enjoy!

 

Adam was miserable.

 

Being with Ronan Lynch was like tasting water in a desert: wonderful and blissful and satisfying at first and then, when it’s run dry, you are left gasping and thirsty for _more._ Adam was learning this. Adam had been learning for two weeks and still, he was gasping. Still, he wanted more.

 

He wanted Ronan, and he couldn’t have him.

 

It had been two long, lonely, painful weeks without so much as a word from Ronan. They were going to great lengths to stay out of each other’s orbit. They had their reasons. An unbearable ache in Ronan’s chest caused him to hide from Adam, but it was Adam’s overwhelming need to protect what he loved the most that drove his will to stay away. Still, they snuck glances, gazed at each other when heads were turned. It was a terrible game of hide and seek, one they had both grown good at from years of secretive glances and hidden smiles. This time, there was nothing beautiful about it. There was only pain. Pain and longing.

 

It took the whole two weeks for Blue to come knocking on Adam’s door.

 

“Adam, I know you’re in there!” Blue crowed, thumping her palm against the door just as Gansey had the morning after the break-up. This time, there would be no trashed apartment or bed-ridden Adam when she opened the door. Gansey had stayed home from school with Adam and cleaned the entire apartment after getting Adam in a shower, feeding him and changing his sheets. Adam had kept it clean and was no longer so weak from remorse that he could hardly move. Still, when he opened the door, dark-circled, sunken blue eyes met Blue’s bright brown ones and the small, fiery girl took in a sharp breath.

 

“Adam…” Blue breathed.

 

“I know,” Adam grumbled, turning away from the door in a silent invitation for her to follow him in.

 

They stood at a stand-still in the middle of Adam’s kitchenette. Blue stared at Adam, at his protruding bones and his dark eyes and his trembling hands, and realized she hardly recognized this Adam, the one who existed without Ronan. She didn’t want to know this Adam. He was sickly and sad. She missed the boy with the bright blue eyes and a secret smile.

 

“What’s going on, Adam?” Blue asked.

 

“I know Gansey told you about the breakup,” Adam huffed, turning to fiddle with the dishes in the sink.

 

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it,” Blue said hotly, bristling at his indifferent tone. She had ridden her rusty old bike four miles to see him.

 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Adam sighed after a pause. “Things got complicated, I backed out. He’s better off without me.”

 

“You don’t believe that,” Blue said, slowly inching closer to Adam. He barked a short, harsh laugh at her words.

 

“You don’t know what I believe,” he said harshly. Blue tried not to flinch away from his words, his tone. _He’s hurting,_ she reminded herself.

 

“I know more than you give me credit for,” Blue said quietly. “I know you didn’t want to hurt Ronan. I know you’re hurting too. I know you love him-”

 

“Of course I fucking love him!” Adam shouted, dropping a mug into the soapy water heavily and ignoring the splatter as he turned on blue with fire in his eyes. “Of course I didn’t want to hurt him. He’s everything to me. I have been _dying_ without him, but if I go back, he’ll get hurt. It will be a cool fucking day in Hell when I let Ronan get hurt…and besides, even if I did go back…even if I begged and crawled and threw myself at him, he wouldn’t want me anymore.”

 

Adam stormed over to his rickety futon and collapsed, dropping his hollow face into his hands in utter defeat. Blue was reminded of the boy who had once kicked a trash can in utter frustration and had opened her eyes to what real rage looked like. This wasn’t that, though. This was more complicated, more fragile than rage. It was love, powerful and unrelenting and it had no mercy on the soul.

 

She came and sat next to him, laying a soft hand on his back. She felt it rattle beneath her palm. She placed her chin on his trembling shoulder and sighed, “he loves you, Adam.”

 

“And Gansey loves you,” Adam sniffed. “But if he was in danger and the only way to keep him safe was to break him, wouldn’t you?”

 

Blue knew the answer to that. It was yes. Absolutely, yes.

 

“Oh, Adam,” Blue whispered, feeling her own eyes sting with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry.”

 

The room was filled with the sound of sniffs and harsh breaths, the sound of two lovers who knew what it was to sacrifice.

 

* * *

 

 

They saw each other again on a Tuesday.

 

It was orchestrated by Noah, who had grown weary of the petty game of hide-and-seek they were playing. He called Adam, claimed the Pig wasn’t starting and Gansey needed to go somewhere and could he please just come over? Adam had hesitated, knowing how dangerous this territory was, but after Noah swore Ronan wasn’t home, he grabbed his toolbox and headed over.

 

Technically, Noah hadn’t lied.

 

Ronan pulled into Monmouth a millisecond before Adam did, home from another dreary play rehearsal. Adam thought seriously about making a U-turn and speeding out of the parking lot, but Ronan had already caught sight of him, his fierce blue eyes growing wide with surprise as he caught sight of the shit mobile. Hesitantly, Adam peeled himself from the leather seats and got out of the car. The two of them stared at each other over the hoods of their cars, a million confessions and questions in their eyes. After what seemed like hours, seconds, minutes, days, Ronan gave Adam an almost imperceptible nod and it was all Adam could do to not run into Ronan’s arms. Instead, Adam returned the cool nod and made his way towards the pig, popping the hood and bending over the engine to get a closer look.

 

He nearly jumped when he heard the familiar rasp behind him. “Is the Pig fucked again?”

 

“Oh, uh…” Adam mumbled intelligently. “I don’t know. Noah called and said it wouldn’t start.”

 

“Hmm…” Ronan grunted. The air was thick with a tension that was nearly palpable as Ronan bent over Adam’s shoulder a bit to see over the hood. Adam felt hot breath hit his cheek and felt his throat beginning to close with want. If he turned his head just right, he would be nose-to-nose with Ronan.

 

“There,” Ronan said suddenly, pointing out the disconnection.

 

“Oh,” Adam said, trying to shake off his feelings as he fixed the Pig. “Thank you.”

 

Adam turned then, unaware that Ronan hadn’t backed up, and ran right into his strong, muscular chest. His palms came up to brace himself against Ronan’s chest and he felt the distant thrum of his heart, beating loudly and fiercely, as it always had. He couldn’t help himself. His fingers splayed across Ronan’s breastbone, feeling all of the curves he had only dreamt of in the past weeks. He wanted to press his mouth against Ronan’s, take his face between his palms and remind himself once again what it was to touch perfection, to grasp it in his hands and call it his own, but as soon as the thought had entered his head, Ronan pushed him away.

 

“Stop, Parrish,” Ronan grunted in disgust, turning towards Monmouth in a hurry to get away from Adam.

 

“Ronan-”

 

“You can’t pull this shit, Adam,” Ronan growled, turning on him again, his eyes wild with hurt and rage. “You can’t come back here and touch me like that. It’s not fair. You broke me and now you can’t just sit around and play with my shattered pieces.”

 

“Ronan, please,” Adam begged, lurching forward to grab Ronan’s arm. Adam was jolted as Ronan snatched the limb away from him as if Adam’s hands had burned him. When Ronan turned his eyes on him, they were cold and deadly.

 

“Don’t touch me again, Adam,” Ronan growled before turned and rushing into the safety of Monmouth. Adam stood there, shocked still by the memory of Ronan recoiling from him. Then he got in his car, drove himself to Cabeswater, walked deep into the forest and screamed until his throat was raw and the wind was whipping around him in the midst of a violent storm. He didn’t care and he didn’t stop. There was no one to hear him anymore.

Adam was completely and totally alone.  

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan was miserable.

 

The feeling of heartache was fresh inside him, throbbing and unrelenting in its torture. He had shifted through the phases of a breakup. First came mourning in the form of a few restless, snot-filled days wallowing in bed. Next was anger, red-hot and blinding as it ripped through his veins and led him into the next phase: destruction. He spent nights driving too fast, days half-drunk and aggressive. And then, once the fury had drained him of his energy, he was left with the numbness, which was the worst of them all. He didn’t care about school, he didn’t care about the play, he didn’t care about his own life. But he still cared for Adam. God, did he care.

 

Rehearsals were winding down and the show was in its final stage. Tech week had come upon them quickly and everyone was scrambling to catch up, especially the new Juliet, some gawky freshman boy with red hair and a slight stutter who happened to fit into Adam’s costume perfectly. He couldn’t look Ronan in the eyes on stage and had trouble spitting out his lines and it was driving Henry crazy. His show, the one he had put his soul into, was falling apart. Ronan felt bad, but for all he loved doing the show, he didn’t care that it was crashing and burning. There was no point to it anymore.

 

“Okay, everyone,” Henry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Tomorrow is our last rehearsal. I need you all to really give me everything you got because what we have now…it’s just not good.”

 

There were grunts of assent heard all around. Every one of the boys was aware of the way the show had fallen apart after Adam, the foundation of their play and arguably their best asset, dropped out. It was truly sad. As much as they all loathed to admit it, they liked being in the play. It was fun. Besides, it would have opened them all up to less ridicule if the play was at least good. They were doomed now.

 

As everyone stripped themselves of their costumes in melancholy silence, Ronan caught sight of Gansey, who had been sitting in on rehearsals as an extra critical eye for Henry all week. Even out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tense line of Gansey’s shoulders, a bizarre kind of body language coming from Gansey. Ronan craned his neck to see who he was talking to and caught sight of a familiar tuft of blonde hair.

 

Once upon a time, Gansey, J.C. and Ronan had been the three musketeers. This was before Noah and Blue and Adam, before Niall Lynch’s death, before Glendower and Cabeswater and the complications of magic and love. They had been boys then, careless and wild in their youthful freedom. There was nothing carefree about them now, Ronan realized as he walked warily towards the feuding boys. Their wild days had passed them by.

 

Ronan caught the tail end of their conversation in the form of a few scathing words from Gansey. “I _know_ you did it. Stay away from my friends, you sick son of a-”

 

“What’s going on here?” Ronan asked, clamping a steadying hand on Gansey’s shoulder. Typically, this was a move that could pull the tension out of Gansey. A grounding touch was all he needed to transform from a wild, livid Gansey to a polite, political one again. This time, however, Gansey shrugged the hand off violently, his tight shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of his heavy breathing.

 

“Nothing,” Gansey hissed. “You and I were just leaving. Let’s go.”

 

As Gansey stalked away, Ronan spared a glance at J.C., who was smirking. The blond boy lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Guess it’s his time of the month.”

 

Outside, Ronan struggled to catch up to Gansey, who was stalking towards the Pig in a barely contained rage. “Gansey!”

 

“I’m fine, Ronan,” Gansey huffed, digging in his messenger bag for his keys.

 

“Bullshit!” Ronan spat indignantly. “What did J.C. do to make you so pissed?”

 

‘Nothing,” Gansey grunted. “Fucking Christ, where are my keys?”

 

“Gansey-”

 

“I’m just hungry, Ronan,” Gansey sighed. “Let’s go to Nino’s. I think Blue is-”

 

“Gansey I swear to God if you don’t tell me what the fuck just happened in there I’m going to burn every fucking polo shirt in your possession,” Ronan threatened, his voice gravely serious despite the ridiculous threat. J.C may have been cool, but no one was cool enough to upset Richard Gansey and get away with it. Not in Ronan’s book.

 

Gansey turned his exhausted eyes on him then, leveling him with a look that said everything Ronan needed to know. It was the same look he’d been giving Ronan since he came home two weeks ago, sobbing over the shattered fragments of his heart. Ronan said, “this is about Adam, then?”

 

Gansey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just-…I have a theory.”

 

“What _kind_ of theory?” Ronan asked, narrowing his suspicious blue eyes at his best friend. Gansey was hiding something from him.

 

“I can’t, Ronan,” Gansey sighed. “I promised Adam I wouldn’t say any-”

 

Before Gansey could finish his sentence, Ronan took the collar of Gansey’s button up and pulled the boy towards him in a menacing move that may have terrified anyone else but only made Gansey squirm fractionally. However, it was Ronan’s eyes that worried Gansey, serious and focused, like a mother bear protecting her young. They screamed of danger.

 

“Gansey,” Ronan said, his low voice a near-whisper. “What happened?”

 

It was a question, but also it wasn’t Ronan wasn’t asking Gansey to spill his secrets, he was _telling_ him.

 

“God, I-…okay. _Okay_ , fine,” Gansey cursed under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “A few weeks ago, I caught J.C. threatening Adam. He said Adam didn’t deserve you because he came from a trailer park. Adam wasn’t really taking it to heart, but then…”

 

“What?” Ronan barked, pulling Gansey closer in anticipation. “What happened, Gansey?”

 

Gansey looked up at his best friend, saw the fierce and protective love in his eyes and couldn’t stop his lips from moving. “He brought Adam’s dad into it. I think he was the one who put the poster in his mailbox. Adam made me promise not to tell you, but Ronan-”

 

Ronan couldn’t hear Gansey over the roaring of blood in his ears. He let go of Gansey’s collar, causing the other boy to stumble and then, in a flash, Ronan was gone.

 

Ronan could just barely register Gansey calling after him as he caught sight of that douchey fucking Ferrari. J.C. was standing with his back to him, fiddling with his car keys. When he turned to face Ronan, a smug grin stretched across his face. “Come to have some fun, Lynch?”

 

Ronan answered by grabbing J.C. by the face and slamming the back of his head into the driver’s side window of his car. The glass splintered, just fractionally, but it was enough to elicit an indignant groan from the blonde boy. Ronan reared back an arm and sent a balled fist flying into J.C.’s nose, knocking it askew and sending a spray of blood across the pavement. With one hand, he grabbed J.C. by the sweater and tossed him to the ground in a bloody heap. 

 

“What the _fuck_ , man?” J.C. moaned from his spot on the ground, looking pitiful and pissed all in the same moment. “What is your goddamn problem?”

 

“You fucking _bastard_ ,” Ronan growled, sending a foot flying into J.C.’s ribcage. “I know you fucking did it.”

 

“Did what?” J.C. hissed, earning another kick from Ronan. He rolled onto his front, groaning as he held his aching gut.

 

“Ronan, stop!” Gansey shouted breathlessly from behind him. Ronan ignored him completely.

 

“Don’t fucking bullshit me!” Ronan screamed, rage flooding his veins and turning blood into lava. “I know you put the flyer in Parrish’s mailbox! I know you sent his piece of shit father after him. You almost got him killed!”

 

“Dude, I don’t know what the _fuck_ you’re talking about!” J.C. shouted, and then, when Ronan reared his foot back again, he yelped, “Don’t! Wait! I swear, Lynch, I hate Parrish and I’ll admit that, but I honestly don’t know what you mean!”

 

Ronan was livid and outraged by the denial. His face twisted in rage as he went to punch J.C. again. “You fucking lying sack of shit-”

 

“He’s not lying!” A familiar voice came from behind Ronan, and he whipped around so fast, he nearly got whiplash.

 

“He didn’t put the flyer in Adam’s mailbox,” Tad said, standing there with wide, frightened eyes as he faced Ronan head-on. Before he spoke again, he ducked his head, a ripple of shame and guilt cascading across his face as he took a long, deep breath and said, “I did.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowza. Tad is a dead man. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys! Leave me a comment please!


	9. Act Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A truth is told. A tape is found. A confession is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I LOVED writing this chapter. I've felt super burned out recently and have felt really unsure about this piece, but I'm suddenly finding my love for it again. I think part of that is all of the kind words you guys left me on the last chapter. THANK YOU!!
> 
> ALSO! This just got at least one chapter longer. Yay! 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy! Leave me comments!

 

At some point in the life of Tad Carruthers, something went horribly wrong.

 

He hadn’t always been so obnoxious. As a baby, he was joyful and spoiled, the absolute apple of his nanny’s eye. As a child, Tad was quiet and polite, often behaving so well that his parents allowed him downstairs when they had parties with the higher-ups. He was always good for showing off. It wasn’t until his teen years that the affliction hit him. Within the span of a summer, as he turned from boy to man, he became the insufferable prick everyone knew and only the truly tender-hearted loved.

 

Tad was the poster boy for the W.A.S.P.’s. Tad often opened his mouth without thinking about how his words would sound. Tad used his father’s money to get what he wanted. Tad felt entitled to most everything he set his eyes on and would stop at nothing to get it.

 

But as annoying as Tad Carruthers could be, he could not be described as malicious. He was typically well-intentioned, if not a bit mindless, and had never in his life gone out of his way to do irreparable damage to someone. He was often described by those who knew him as “a jackass, but a harmless one.”

 

Until now.

 

“You did _what_?” Ronan growled, his lethal blue eyes trained dangerously on Tad.

 

“I-..I didn’t know, Ronan, I swear I didn’t,” Tad gushed, his hands trembling as he held them up in surrender. “I was just so pissed about the retreat and everything with the two of you that I just- I couldn’t help myself. I just wanted you both to feel bad, I didn’t know that his dad- that he-”

 

“Tad,” Gansey said in his calmest peace-maker voice. “What are you saying?”

 

Tad’s panicked brown eyes darted between Ronan and Gansey, who were now both giving him their most lethal glares. He took in a trembling breath before his admission. “I had my driver go out to the Parrish’s trailer and put one of the flyers in his mailbox. I thought Adam still lived there so I went during the school day so no one could see me. I didn’t know that he had moved out or… _why_ he had moved out. He always keeps that stuff so private.”

 

“Holy shit,” J.C. said from his crumbled position on the floor. “That’s fucked up, dude.”

 

“Why _on earth_ would you do such a thing?” Gansey asked incredulously, his typically warm eyes filled with rage. Tad winced in preparation for his admission, avoiding eye contact with Ronan entirely even as he spoke to him.

 

“At the retreat…I knew that you two had gotten together. I saw you kissing in the cabin. Adam was so… _googly eyed_ over you and I just couldn’t stand it,” Tad grimaced. “It made me sick. He wouldn’t even glance at me anymore and I just…got jealous. I had to get you out of his life and…his dad is a trailer park hick. I knew he wouldn’t approve of the play. I just thought that if he wasn’t a part of it anymore, it would drive the two of you apart. You…you didn’t _deserve_ him!”

 

“And you do?” Ronan hissed, speaking up for the first time. “You could have gotten him _killed._ ”

 

“I already _said_ I didn’t mean it!” Tad cried, fat tears starting to pour down his cheeks. “I would _never_ hurt Adam on purpose. I love him too, Lynch, just like you do. I just didn’t _know!_ ”

 

Ronan surged toward him then, the movement so sudden it made Tad stumble back against J.C.’s car. He winced as Ronan pulled back a balled fist, ready to strike. Behind them, J.C. and Gansey were silent, neither prepared to speak up in Tad’s defense. They braced for the sound of knuckled against skin, the wet sound of blood splattering, but it didn’t come. The only sounds to be heard were the sounds of heavy breathing from the two boys.

 

Ronan should have hit Tad. He should have made him bleed and break, just like Adam had at the hands of Robert Parrish. But he couldn’t do it. Ronan looked down at Tad, terrified and trembling under his gaze, and saw him for what he was: a coward in love with someone he couldn’t have. Once upon a time, he could have related. Once upon a time, he would have knocked Tad’s lights out. But love had taught Ronan so many beautiful things. Mercy was one of them.

 

Ronan shoved Tad away from him, taking a few, steadying breaths to ground himself. Tad stared at him, bewildered. “Aren’t you going to kill me?”

 

“You aren’t worth it,” Ronan said lowly, picking his backpack off the floor where he had thrown it and slinging it over his shoulder. “This is your warning, Carruthers: don’t ever let me catch you around Adam Parrish again, or I’ll forget about mercy and break every bone in your pathetic body.”

 

J.C barked an amused laugh as he peeled himself from the pavement slowly, only to be tossed down onto it once more by Ronan’s firm hand.

 

“As for you,” Ronan hissed, “if you ever so much as think about Parrish in the wrong way again, I will destroy you.”

 

“You wouldn’t,” J.C. challenged. “We have history, Lynch.”

 

“ _Fuck_ our history,” Ronan growled, glaring daggers. “If you mess with the boy I love, I will fucking end you. Whatever friendship we had, that is _over._ Got it?”

 

He didn’t give J.C. time to respond. Ronan turned to storm towards his car, Gansey on his heels, when he heard Tad speak up again. “I meant what I said, you know,” Tad called out. “I do love him.”

 

Ronan stopped, turned and leveled Tad with a stare that was too calm to be quite Lynch. It unnerved all parties. “You should,” Ronan said. “He just saved your life.”

 

And with that, Ronan got into the BMW, locked the doors on a flustered Gansey and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving three frazzled boys in his wake.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Adam was exhausted.

 

As he shuffled home from his double shift at Boyd’s, he felt as if his flesh would slide off his bones at any moment, leaving him as nothing more than a brittle skeleton. It would be fitting. He felt like an empty shell anyway. He had been overworking himself in order to chase away his thoughts of Ronan, of his father, of the play. It had begun to take its toll days ago, but Adam couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his father smashing Ronan’s head in with a crowbar, a sickening reenactment of Niall’s brutal death. Every time he drifted off to sleep, he dreamt of Ronan, holding him gently and then recoiling from him like he had the plague. He needed a distraction. He also needed coffee.

 

The old church stairs groaned under Adam’s weight. He thought about the bag of coffee grounds waiting for him in his cabinet, began to salivate at the thought of hot coffee sliding down his throat like a warm welcome throat. Just a few more steps…

 

“Oh, Adam!” Adam stopped in his tracks at the familiar and currently unwelcomed chirp. He tried to keep his eyes from rolling as he turned to face Sister Elise. He forced a polite smile onto his face as she met him at the top of the stairs, her eyes riddled with worry and pity, a look Adam was all too familiar with. “How are you, dear?”  
  
“I’m good, Sister,” Adam lied. “And you?”

“Oh, the lord has blessed me with another day and that’s all I can ask,” Sister Elise smiled, just briefly, and then the smile slid from her face. “I haven’t seen Ronan around here lately. Are you still keeping him out of trouble?”

 

Adam bit down on his tongue so hard it nearly bled. “Ronan is keeping himself out of trouble while we take so time for ourselves. I’m sure he’ll be here for church on Sunday.”

 

“Such a shame,” Sister Elise sighed. “You two were such good friends, and you were such a good influence on him. I hate to see that end. True friendship is one of the Lord’s rarest gifts.”

 

Adam stifled a laugh at this. He doubted that God defined “true friends” as two boys who liked to stick their tongues in each other’s mouths, but he wasn’t about to point that out to sweet Sister Elise.

 

“Yes,” Adam sighed agreeably. “Well, it’s been great talking with you, Sister, but it’s been a long day and I-”

 

“Oh! I’m sorry, Adam, I’ve been rambling on this whole time and I nearly forgot why I stopped you!” Sister Elise gasped. “Sister Rose is always telling me that I-”

 

“Sister.”

 

“Right,” Sister Elise blushed, taking Adam’s hand in hers. Adam nearly whimpered at the touch. He hadn’t been touched gingerly in so long. “Adam, I was reviewing the security tapes a yesterday-”

 

“Security tapes?” Adam asked. Sister Elise blinked at him, seemingly dazed by the interruption.

 

“Well, yes,” she said. “We have camera posted on each hall. For insurance reasons, you know.”

 

Adam felt his throat go dry. How many times had he filthily kissed Ronan at his door? He could practically envision the horrible flush that was traveling up his neck.

 

“Anyway,” Sister Elise said, “I was reviewing the tapes and I saw…well, I can only suppose it was your father from his demeanor. I just wanted to reach out to you and see if you were alright. I know I’m a bit tardy, but perhaps-”

 

“Wait,” Adam choked on his breath. “You have a video of my father? At my door?”

 

“Yes…” Sister Elise said warily, eyeing the now pale Adam with worried green irises.

 

“Does this tape have a time stamp by any chance?” Adam asked, trying to calm his racing heart.

 

“It does,” Sister Elise confirmed before leaning in conspiratorially. “Father Jacobs didn’t want to splurge on the high-tech surveillance equipment, but I convinced him otherwise. It is my job to check them, after all.”

 

Adam felt like he was going to pass out. There were so many thoughts rushing through his head, so many feelings attacking his heart, but through this onslaught he managed to ask an important question. “Sister…I’m so sorry to trouble you, but could I perhaps get a copy of this tape?”

 

Sister Elise smiled.

 

 

The Henrietta Police Department was a corrupt and vile institution, but even they couldn’t turn their backs to cold, hard evidence.

 

Adam had sat in a plastic folding chair for two hours as the ignorant cops reviewed the tape over and over again. Finally, once they had run out of objections, they sent out a call to other on-duty cops to bring in Robert Parrish. Thirty minutes later, the doors had burst open, revealing a staggeringly drunk Robert Parrish, struggling in the hold of the stronger, less inebriated officers. When he caught sight of his son sitting coolly and calmly in the waiting room, he bared his teeth and gave him a piercing glare.

 

“You little fucking shit,” Robert growled, thrashing against the officers in an attempt to get to his son. Adam hardly flinched. “Don’t you know you can’t get rid of me? When I get out, I am going to fucking kill you and that stupid Lynch brat! Just you fucking wait.”

Adam stood, tucking the tape under his armpit as he coolly addressed his father with a confidence that was only half faked. “Good luck with that.”

 

And with that, Adam Parrish left the Henrietta police station, the sound of his father’s gruff and aggravated scream echoing in his good ear and painting a smile on his lips. He stopped at the payphone outside, picked two quarters from the depths of his pockets and dialed a well-known number.

 

“Gansey? It’s Adam,” Adam said. “Do you know where Ronan is?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The path leading to the barns was impossibly dark as the sun dipped behind the evergreens, but Adam didn’t slow down. He sped like Ronan Lynch as he edged arounds corners and weaved his way through the winding roads. It didn’t matter. He could have gotten there with his eyes closed. The magnetic pull of Ronan Lynch was guiding him homewards.

 

Adam was a tangled mess of nerves and dread and anxiety. In truth, he almost didn’t want to do it. He wanted to go home, lay in his bed, sleep until the weariness in his bones faded and then sleep some more. He didn’t want to face Ronan, face the possibility of rejection and heartache. Would Ronan even want to see him? Would he drive him off his property like an unwanted pest? Would he love him still, after what he’d done, after the time that had passed? Adam didn’t know.

 

But Adam knew this: he could not spend another minute away from Ronan. It didn’t matter if Ronan wanted him, it didn’t matter if he ended up hurt. He was going to see Ronan. He had been starving for much too long. His heart was being pulled towards the boy he loved and he was absolutely powerless to stop it.

 

The barns came into view as the shit-mobile chugged up the familiar hills. It was like a beacon of light, backlit by the last of the evening sun, casting the sky in a violet glow. Clouds were rolling in, preparing the land for a dousing of rain. He could see the BMW, stark black and sharp against the softness of the land, this wild and beautiful place that had built the one he loved. He felt a warmth creep into his bones. He was almost home.

 

Adam had barely parked the car before he was emerging from it, slamming it with a vigor that would have given Ronan pride. He stomped up the porch steps with more confidence than he felt, palms sweating and his throat so dry he could have swallowed a match and lit it. He hesitated, only for a moment, before bringing a knuckled fist down onto the old redwood door.

 

Nothing.

 

“Ronan?” Adam called, pounding on it once more. “Ronan, it’s me, open the door!”

 

Nothing. Not a sound, not a movement, not even a slight hint of life coming from behind the door.

 

“Ronan! Please, I know you’re in there. I have to talk to you,” Adam shouted through the door. “I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you, but if you just open the door, I can try to explain myself. Please let me explain!”

 

Silence.

 

“Ro, Please!” Adam cried, his voice breaking horribly. All of the light and warmth was flooding out of him at an alarming pace, draining him of the last tether of energy he had been holding onto all day. He collapsed to his knees, his forehead pressed to the cool door as embarrassing tears began to cascade down his face. He didn’t care. He was exhausted. “Ro, I’m so sorry. Please open the door. I’ve been dying without you and I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

 

The land was quiet around him, aside from the light patter of rain that had begun to pour.

 

“My dad is in jail,” Adam confessed with a croak. “Sister Elise had footage of him at Saint Agnes. He won’t get out for years. He…he told me he would hurt you, Ronan and I couldn’t let that happen. I’m so sorry I hurt you, but I had to keep you safe.”

 

The rain was falling harder now. The sound was so loud it was nearly deafening.

 

“I love you, Ronan,” Adam gasped. “I know I’m too late. I now you hate me. But I have loved you since you saved me from falling off that ladder in rehearsal and I haven’t stopped. I have ached for you all these weeks and it has killed me to stay away but I _had_ to. I had to protect the person I love more than anything.”

 

He was crying now. It wasn’t the quiet, reserved crying he was used to, but rather a flood of emotion tumbling out of him all at once.

 

“I love you, Ronan. And even if you hate me, I will still love you. What I feel for you? It is unconditional,” Adam croaked. “Please open the door… _please._ ”

 

The silence rang out in his heart like a gunshot, splitting him open and laying him bare on that porch. He felt crushed. He felt relieved. He felt exhausted. He knelt in front of the door for a few more moments, waiting to hear the tell-tale clomping of combat boots, the groaning of the wood floors, even just the faintest hint of breathing. There was nothing. There was just the rain, heavy and unrelenting as it came down over the fields.

 

With as much dignity as he could muster, Adam peeled himself from the floor and wiped his eyes. He felt hallow from releasing the weight of the words he had been keeping trapped under his tongue for weeks. Once he summoned his strength, he turned to head back to the shit-mobile in shame and bitter acceptance of the fact that Ronan wanted nothing to do with him. When he turned, the deep breath he was inhaling lodged in his throat and his heart began to pound, as if it hadn’t been working for weeks and just remembered how to function.

 

Ronan stood there in the rain, soaking wet from head to toe. He stared at Adam with the same look of unadulterated awe that Adam had been dreaming of for weeks. Raindrops clung to his long, thick black eyelashes as he stared at Adam. The rain made his black clothes cling to his body in ways that were making Adam ache with an unrelenting _want_ and _need_. He was somehow, impossibly, more beautiful than he had ever been, and he was right there in Adam’s reach.

 

Adam stumbled off the porch and into the rain in a daze, vaguely aware that he must have looked completely awkward and unsexy. He didn’t care. Water was dripping into Ronan’s mouth, the same one that had once felt so soft and warm as it pressed against Adam’s. Adam’s mouth went as dry as a desert as he came nearly nose-to-nose with Ronan, so close but still not touching.

 

It was silent, just for a breath, and then Ronan spoke in a gruff, thick rasp. “Did you mean it?”

 

Adam didn’t need to ask what he was talking about specifically. He already knew. And so he said, “every word.”

 

That was all they needed. Ronan ducked down to clash his mouth against Adam’s, hands coming up to cup his flushed face. Any other time, this might have ended in a few pained giggles as they struggled to readjust, but not then. They had been starving for each other, starving for the hotness of a warm mouth on their, for strong arms wrapped around them tightly. Tongues slipped between lips, a mess of rain and hot breath as they struggled to get closer to each other. Ronan tucked his hands against the back of Adam’s thighs and Adam immediately got the hint, jumping to be caught by Ronan. He wrapped his legs around Ronan’s waist, clinging tightly, ready to go anywhere Ronan took him. Adam only distantly registered they were moving as Ronan carried him towards the old farmhouse.

 

Adam thought maybe they should talk, slow down, let this thing have space to breathe for a moment. Then he thought, _fuck that._

 

This was Adam and Ronan. They didn’t need words. They didn’t need slowness. They didn’t need space. As long as they had each other, they could survive. They would survive.

 

Ronan held Adam with one hand as he fiddled with the door knob. It clicked, the door opened, and he carried him into the dark hallway, slamming the door behind them. He didn’t need to open his eyes to find his way to the stairs in this home he had long since memorized, so he didn’t stop kissing Adam as he made his way up them. He didn’t let go.

 

There would be no need for words tonight.

 

Adam and Ronan had both come home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOT DAMN. Is it steamy in here, or is it just me?
> 
> Leave me some thoughts, y'all. xx


	10. Act Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan and Adam come back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY, so a few things:
> 
> 1\. I've officially narrowed down a chapter count. This fic will have two more chapters, one serving as an epilogue. It's almost over. ):
> 
> 2\. I'm battling the flu and my brain is still a little hazy, so if theres anything that doesn't make sense, I'm VERY sorry and be sure to let me know in the comments. 
> 
> 3\. I want to shoutout a reader, stardustbooknerd, who posted about this fic on tumblr! I've never seen anyone talk about my fics on there and I stumbled upon her post randomly. Lets just say, there were some TEARS shed. It makes my heart so happy that y'all like this fic and my writing. Your support means so much to me.
> 
> With all that said and done, get ready for some FLUFF. (And a little smut? Not really. Kind of? Well, just read it.)

 

Virginity was a fragile, momentous thing in the eyes of Ronan Lynch.

 

He can remember the first time the subject of sex was broached to him as he sat in Sunday school one summer morning, fidgeting with discomfort in his Sunday best. He had been day dreaming about the barns when a cacophony of pubescent giggles erupted around him. He focused then, eager to be in on the joke, and listened, rapt, as the teacher droned on about the precious gift of virginity and the importance of saving it until marriage. He had not been laughing along with his peers. For even then, at ten years old, Ronan knew that he would wait. He would wait to give his virginity to his one true love.

 

As he grew older, he began to reflect on this philosophy more, watched it change and morph as he learned the ways of the world and discovered the truth within himself but still, even then, his belief stood firm. He knew as he watched the girls come and go from Declan’s room, as he saw sex portrayed in movies and literature as a meaningless, frail thing to be tossed away without a second thought. He knew even as he faced the monster in his closet, faced the unrelenting truth of his sexuality. He knew he was still waiting. Not until marriage, not until a set date, but until his heart fell into a synchronized rhythm with the rest of his body and set its beat to match that of someone else, someone Ronan would love fiercely, as Ronan knew no other way to love.

 

He had garnered a few offers, many coming from Kavinsky or Proko after a night of mischief and adrenaline. Sure, it had been tempting. After all, Ronan was a teenaged boy and had all the functioning parts of one. However, to Ronan, virginity was irreplaceable. Once it was gone, he couldn’t get it back again. So Ronan held on, guarding it and himself ferociously and with an iron-clad grip.

 

But when Ronan met Adam Parrish, all dusty hair and tan skin, freckles that dotted his tan shoulders and cornflower blue eyes that captivated him, he might as well have handed it to him on sight. Because Ronan knew, just as he always had, that he was giving his virginity to someone he was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with; and he knew, just as surely as he knew his own name, that that someone was Adam Parrish.

 

But it wasn’t immediate.

 

Sure, Ronan had been ready the moment Adam had leaned into him on that rickety old dock and pressed his lips against Ronan’s own. Sure, that moment had sparked a fire between them, one that raged and burned relentlessly, driving them to want in ways they had never wanted before. Sure, hands had brushed groins over the fabric of their too-tight jeans, sure filthy things had been whispered in the night that, sure they had brought each other to the cusp of paradise with some heavy petting. But they had never gone all the way. And then, suddenly, they weren’t talking. Suddenly, the fire had faded back into the embers and it seemed Ronan would never give his virginity to Adam.

 

That was, until he found Adam on his front porch, crying and begging for forgiveness. Ronan had picked Adam up, held him close the way he had held onto that fragile, precious gift of love he had been guarding for eighteen years, and carried the quaking boy upstairs to his childhood bedroom and, with a ferocious love raging in the cavern of his chest, gave it away to Adam Parrish.

 

It had been awkward and messy, a clutter of lanky limbs and wet lips and jumbled words. There was plenty of “shit, sorry” and “yes, _god,_ there” and “goddammit, that’s the third condom we’ve ripped” as they scrambled to make things work. But then, as they came together, nose to nose, mingling breaths and love confessions floating into the air around them, it was also perfect. It was everything and nothing like they had expected their first time to be, and it was as close to magic as they had ever come.

 

Adam’s skin glistened in the moonlight, the newly shed sweat glowing a pale blue similar to the color of his eyes. Ronan felt sappy, lying beside the naked boy and waxing poetic about the moonlight on his skin, but he just couldn’t contain himself. He had been convinced that this would never be, that he would never know how it felt to be filled up by Adam, to move as one being, to know him and all his curves in the most biblical sense. It felt like a dream, one he had had many times before, but as Adam trailed his delicate finger tips over the curve of Ronan’s spine, he felt more awake than he ever had before.

 

“That was…” Ronan panted, not even trying to fight the grin that was stretching across his face and reflecting onto Adam’s.

 

“Yeah,” Adam breathed, biting down on his bottom lip in a way that could almost be described as obscene. “Why have we not been doing this the entire time?”

 

“I…” Ronan started, trying to battle the emotion that was squeezing his throat. “I never thought we’d...that we’d get to…”

 

Adam, of course, understood. He had felt the same, horrible fear in his heart for weeks. And so his fingertips stilled where they were tracing a dark beak on Ronan’s lower back and went to press against the skin beneath Ronan’s jaw, where his pulse thrummed steady and true. It was a rhythm Adam thought he could dance to for the rest of his life. In the darkness, Adam whispered the words he had screamed in ecstasy just a little while ago. They were softer this time, but no less true. “I love you, Ronan.”

 

And wasn’t this what Ronan had been waiting for all along? To know this kind of pure love? To be living in this moment, laid bare for the one he loved most in the world?

 

“I love you, too,” Ronan whispered, taking Adam’s face in his hands. “I always have.”

 

He felt more than he saw Adam’s elated smile as it pressed against his own, lips capturing each other once more. There was still a tension. There were words to be said, conversations to be had, truths to be told and wounds to be healed. But there, in the darkness, those things could be ignored just a little while longer.

 

“You know,” Ronan said, twisting a lock of sandy hair between two fingers. “I don’t quite think I’ve had enough of you yet.”

 

Adam laughed then, a bright and beautiful thing, before he flipped himself onto Ronan, their heaving chests pressed together. “I never thought you to be this lustful, Lynch. What would the nuns say?”

 

“I think this…” Ronan purred, grasping Adam between his legs, delighting in the soft gasp he elicited from the honey-haired boy. “…is something I would happily be damned for.”

 

“Well then,” Adam grinned, and that grin was like gasoline of the fire. His voice was little more than a breath as he pressed his words against Ronan’s lips, reciting the line that had started it all. _“Give me my sin again.”_

 

Ronan needn’t be asked twice.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Adam woke with the morning sun as it drifted through the tall, frosty paned windows of the barns. Any other morning, he would have woken in his bed and felt the chill of that frost as he wrapped himself in his very thin sheets back at Saint Agnes. This morning, however, he was warm, not just by the heat of the barns and the comforter and the boy at his back, but by the glowing this inside him that had resurfaced after leaving him cold for so long. For the first time, Adam was truly content.

 

He turned in the strong arms that held him to find two gunmetal blue eyes already staring at him. Ronan’s face was a complicated cocktail of feels as Adam smiled at him, backlit by a halo of golden morning light. Ronan thought, in that moment, that he looked like an angel, but that wasn’t what his face was betraying.

 

_“Romeo, Romeo…”_ Adam sighed, tapping gentle fingers against Ronan’s shaved skull and pouting prettily in mock sadness. _“Wherefore art thou Romeo?”_

Ronan cracked a begrudgingly endeared smile as he leaned forward to kiss the pretend pout off Adam’s face. Adam responded enthusiastically to this, humming happily as Ronan deepened the kiss.

 

Ronan pulled back, tugging Adam’s bottom lip with him as he went. “Good morning, love.”

 

“Mornin’ darlin’,” Adam drawled.

 

“I forgot how God-awful your morning breath was,” Ronan chuckled, his laugh echoing throughout the room as Adam squawked indignantly, smacking Ronan lighting on the arm. This turned into a brief wrestling match, the two gangly boys throwing elbows and hands at each other over a chorus of laughter, somehow settling into a fierce and sweet kiss. Their lips stuck together as Adam pulled back, a small, thoughtful smile on his pink lips as he propped himself up on Ronan’s chest, his chin resting in his palm. “You love me and my morning breath.”

 

“I do,” Ronan said instantly, truthfully.

 

“And I love you,” Adam said, and Ronan wondered if there would ever be a time when those words wrapped around Adam’s tongue would cease to give him chills. “Is that what’s got you looking so pensive this morning? My morning breath?”

 

Adam watched Ronan carefully as truth flickered inside his irises. He waited, breathless, as the boys took a deep breath, wetting his plump, bitten lips with a flick of his wicked tongue. “The play is tonight.”

 

Adam’s body, previously loose and warm, tensed visibly at this. There it was. They were having a conversation. It was time for words and truth and wounds now.

 

“I know it is,” Adam sighed, falling back onto his own pillow. “I’m going to come watch. I’ll be there to support you.”

 

“You should be on the stage too, Adam,” Ronan huffed, trying to ignore the way Adam was pointedly not looking at him. “The show is shit without you.”

 

“It’s not shit without me, Ro-”

 

“It _is,_ ” Ronan insisted. “That freshman kid can hardly look me in the eye. He nearly pissed himself when I went to kiss him last week.”

 

“Can you blame him?” Adam asked, unable to stifle his laughter. “I love you to death, but you’re a bit terrifying.”

 

“Why won’t you let yourself have this, Adam?” Ronan asked, affectively silencing Adam’s laughter. The boy’s face settled into a pained grimace. “You’re magnetic on stage. When I watch you, I am _breathless._ And that’s not because I love you, don’t say it is. It’s because you’re _good._ Your father is in jail. He can’t hurt us now.”

 

“I know that,” Adam sighed.

 

“So what are you afraid of?” Ronan asked, and wasn’t that the question of the year? Adam still didn’t quite know how to answer, and so he didn’t.

 

“I’m not afraid,” Adam lied. “I’m just…too late. That boy probably has his entire family coming to see him. Besides, I haven’t gone over my lines in a month. We hadn’t even practiced all the way through by the time I quit. I couldn’t do it if I wanted to.”

 

“That’s bullshit,” Ronan scoffed. “You know every line of that show, Adam. You forget I was there when you learned them.”

 

“It can’t be done, Ronan,” Adam said sternly, his voice dripping with finality. Ronan turned to argue and promptly swallowed his words as he caught the plea in Adam’s eyes. They were begging him to drop it, so he did. Adam pushed forward, gratefully pressing his lips to the frustrated crease between Ronan’s brows, smoothing it over. “I promise you’ll see me there, front row, sitting right next to Blue and Noah and Gansey with his camcorder.”

 

Ronan shot him a look, his face going pale. “Camcorder?”

 

“Oh yeah,” Adam smirked. “A little birdy may have let it slip that you’re wearing tights.”

 

“Oh, you bastard,” Ronan growled, a dangerous grin stretching across his lips. “You’re dead.”

 

The sound of Adam’s shrieking laughter and Ronan’s playful shouts echoed throughout the old farmhouse, creating a beautiful melody that sang of home and happiness and love, love, _love._

 

  __

* * *

 

 

As Adam stepped into the auditorium that night holding an overly expensive bouquet of red roses and a playbill with Ronan’s name on it, he tried to quell the sadness blooming in his chest. He remembered walking into the auditorium that first day of class, sitting next to Ronan, dreading the very thing that would bring them together. He remembered the auditions, the way Ronan had circled him with that alluring, mischievous look in his eyes, making him forget they were acting entirely. He remembered falling from the ladder, which was now replaced by a beautiful, hand-crafted set decorated with hanging ivy vines, expensive fabric curtains and delicate painted designs. He remembered, most of all, the feeling he got playing Juliet, the rush that trickled through his veins as he stood center stage with Ronan at his side.

 

He looked down at the playbill, saw Ronan’s name and an unfamiliar one where his name had once been, and the sadness was nearly too much. He almost turned to leave, but his fierce pride for Ronan stopped him. He would do this. He would sit there in those uncomfortable seats and cheer as loud as he possibly could for the boy who had always been there to cheer for him.

 

“Adam!”

 

Gansey sat in the front row with Blue and Noah at his sides, camcorder set up in front of him on a tri-pod. He waved Adam over with an enthusiastic hand, his brilliant Gansey smile brighter than the spotlight that was currently focused on the red Grand Drape. Adam found his seat next to Noah, who was surely invisible to everyone else in the room but still occupying a “reserved” seat anyway.

 

“I’m so glad you decided to come,” Gansey said, giving him a hopeful side glance. “I’m sure Ronan will appreciate your presence.”

 

Adam rolled his eyes fondly at Gansey’s not-so-inconspicuous plea for information, but gave it to him anyway. “Yeah, well I’d be a shitty boyfriend if I missed it.”  


“Dammit!” Blue cried, digging into her pocket to procure a five-dollar bill. She slapped it into Noah’s palm as he grinned and then turned her fiery eyes on Adam. “You couldn’t have waited until after the play, Adam?”

 

“Did you make _a_ _bet_ on when I would put my relationship back together?” Adam sputtered indignantly.

 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Blue huffed. “The tension between you two was stifling and we had to put up with it for weeks. At least one of us got something out of it.”

 

“Oh,” Noah said, the wicked grin still painted across his face as he sent Adam a look. “I think Adam got something out of it, too.”

 

Adam felt his face flush 50 shades of beet-red as Blue and Gansey let out similar victorious shouts. Blue elbowed Adam with a delighted gleam in her brown eyes. “Adam _Parrish,_ you dog! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“I didn’t think you wanted the details of Ronan’s sex life,” Adam shrugged.

 

“Is he a screamer?” Blue asked, perching her cheek in her hand.

 

“Oh, he definitely is,” Noah confirmed. “I live with him. Even alone he’s not quiet.”

 

Gansey whistled, his own cheeks tinged pink. “Ronan would slaughter all of us if he knew we were talking about this.”

 

“You guys maybe,” Adam grinned. “He loves me.”

 

A chorus of “awwwwww” erupted amongst the group of teens as Gansey’s cell phone began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket, swiped his finger across the screen and pressed it to his ear. “Richard Gansey here- oh, hey Henry. Yeah, we’re here.”

 

“I’m really happy for you, Adam,” Blue whispered, giving her ex a small smile.

 

“Thanks Blue,” Adam grinned, elbowing her lightly and affectionately. “That means a lot.”

 

“Henry, calm down,” Gansey said, his kingly voice making all conversation around him cease. Blue, Noah and Adam all leaned in to listen. “Yes, he’s here. He’s sitting right next to me. He- yes, I’ll put him on.”

 

Gansey pulled the phone away from his ear and politely put his hand over the receiver. His eyes centered on Adam, concerned and deadly serious. Adam felt his stomach drop. Was something wrong with Ronan?

 

“Henry needs to speak with you, Adam,” Gansey said, shoving the phone towards him. Adam stared at the contraption, hesitating only slightly before taking it and pressing it to his ear.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Adam, thank _God,_ ” Henry cried, his voice cracking with stress. “You still a size six dress? Because we need you to go on.”

 

“Wait, what?” Adam all but shouted, glancing around him self-consciously when other members of the audience turned to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

 

“Jacob, your understudy, showed up piss-drunk of his dad’s whiskey. He said he was trying to calm his nerves and overestimated his tolerance. I’d say that’s the fucking understatement of the year. He’s projectile vomiting backstage as we speak,” Henry growled. “There is no way in hell he can go on. We need you, Adam.”

 

“Henry, I can’t do it,” Adam cried, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I can’t! It’s been weeks since I picked up my script. I’ve never even gone through the death scene. I can’t.”

 

“Adam, there’s someone who wants to talk to you. I’m going to hand you off, okay?” Henry asked.

 

“Okay,” Adam croaked, knowing exactly who would be coming over the line next. There was a crackle and some distant voices and then, suddenly, Ronan was there, speaking gently into his ear.

 

“Hi baby,” Ronan said. “Talk to me.”

 

“Ro, I’m sorry, but I can’t do it,” Adam gushed, standing from his seat to pace the narrow aisle between the front row and the stage. “I’m out of practice. I’ll look like an idiot up there. No one is going to take me seriously. I can’t. I can’t ruin the show for everyone else.”

 

 

“There won’t be a show to ruin if you don’t do this,” Ronan insisted. “Adam, listen to me. You are the perfect Juliet. You know the lines. You know the blocking. You know the character. You are more talented than the entire cast put together. I know you’re scared, but I will be right beside you the entire time. _You can do this, Adam._ I believe in you.”

 

And there it was. That was the missing piece. All his life, Adam had struggled through, desperately trying to earn the approval of others. He had worked his ass off to prove his worth to his parents, his peers, to his professors and ivy league colleges. All his life, he just wanted someone to believe in him. And Ronan did, with his whole heart and soul. With Ronan at his side, Adam felt like he could do anything.

 

“Ronan, put Henry back on the phone,” Adam commanded. There was a scuffle, and then Henry’s nervous voice came back over the line.

 

“Got any good news for me, babycakes?” Henry asked.

 

“Do you happen to have a razor handy?” Adam asked. “I need to shave my legs.”

 

Henry let out a delighted, boisterous laugh. “I sure do, Miss Capulet. It’s waiting for you.”

 

“I’m coming to collect,” Adam said, hanging up the phone and tossing it to Gansey, who hardly caught it in his shock.

 

“Where are you going?” Blue asked, being pulled out of her conversation with Noah as Adam began to jog towards the backstage entrance. Adam grinned, a gleam in his eye that had been missing for weeks making a reappearance.

 

“I’ve got a show to save.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GO ADAM GO GO GO!
> 
>  
> 
> Leave me your thoughts below!


	11. Act Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the performance you've been waiting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS! FINALLY! I'm so sorry this is so late. It has been crazy lately and my brain has just been unwilling to provide coherent thought. 
> 
> THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER BEFORE THE EPILOGUE! So many tears! You guys, I love writing this fic. It makes my heart so happy, and hearing your feedback literally makes my day. 
> 
> I am working on a few new things, including the sequel to A Place Called Home, but before I post that I'm going to spend some time on my new AU. It's a Notebook Au where Adam has lost his memory and Ronan has to tell him the story of how they fell in love in order to remind him. There will be ALL OF THE TEARS so pleaseeeeee go read that! It would mean so much to me! Also, let me know in the comments what else you would like to see from me!
> 
> So, without further ado, the play.

Shaving his legs was, as Adam quickly discovered, a bit of a bitch.

 

He was stuck in the cramped utility bathroom backstage, leaning against the grubby maintenance shower with one leg propped up on the wall as he sloppily dragged the razor against his skin. He’d been in there for almost a half hour, trying to figure out how to get the back of his legs without cutting them. Adam had to hand it to the women of the world; this was _not_ something he could imagine doing daily. It was awkward and slippery and a mess of wrong angles and uneven hairs. Henry had held the curtain, but he was beginning to get restless from the other side of the door.

 

“Adam, dear, I don’t mean to rush you but I have about six hundred people waiting for my shining star to shave and I’m about to break out into hives.”

 

Adam’s foot slipped at the sound of his voice, nearly sending him face-first into the tile shower. “OW, mother _fucker_ ,” Adam groaned, rubbing the elbow he had knocked against the side of the shower during his fall.

 

Henry, apparently fed up with waiting, burst through the door, holding out a hand towards Adam impatiently. “Legs up, Parrish. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Adam struggled to fight off the blush that was quickly spreading across his face as he propped his leg up and handing the razor over. Henry was not fazed in the slightest. He expertly began to run the razor over Adam’s legs, shaving him evenly and quickly. Adam stared, awestruck by his expertise.

 

“How do you know how to do this so well?” Adam asked. Henry looked up at him through thick black lashes, arching an impeccably manicured eyebrow. His expression seemed to perfectly portray the words “ _bitch, please.”_

It was silent for a moment as Henry set to his task. Adam watched him as he completed it with professional ease, never batting an eye at the awkwardness of shaving a classmate’s legs in a small utility bathroom. Henry was truly the most disciplined and professional person he knew.

 

“There you go, Parrish,” Henry announced, settling the razor down. “Silky smooth.”

“Thanks, Henry,” Adam breathed a breath of relief.

 

“No problem, babycakes,” Henry smiled, turning back towards the door. “Get dressed, hot stuff, curtain’s up in fifteen.”

 

“Hey Henry?” Adam called after him, watching as Henry turned over his shoulder to quirk an inquisitive eyebrow at Adam. “This show…it’s actually really good. I never would have thought I would fall in love with it, but I did…and it wouldn’t be shit without you. You’re an incredible director. I just wanted you to know that.”

 

Henry’s eyes were glistening at that. A blinding smile spread across his face as he clapped a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Thanks, Adam. That means a lot.”

 

“Henry!” Jacob Johnson yelled through the door in that shrill, prepubescent voice of his. “The nurse lost his bra!”

 

“Duty calls,” Henry winked before slipping out the door.

 

Adam went back to the dressing room for the boys playing female characters and hastily put on his costume. His hands shook as he laced up the corset top and added the many layers of skirts that went into the detailed costume. When he was finished putting on his wig, makeup, costume and all, he looked at himself in the mirror, his blue eyes meeting those of a beautiful stranger. He recognized nothing of himself in the mysterious woman who stood before him. In his head, his father’s words echoed. _Faggot, pussy, disgrace, worthless._

 

But in this stranger’s eyes, there was another word, one that sounded so much louder as it filled his heart: _strong._

A knock sounded from the door and Adam turned to find a familiar head pop into the room, brown eyes going wide as he looked at Adam.

 

“Adam…” Tad breathed, raking his eyes down Adam’s body before correcting himself, his cheeks flushing with shame. “You look…really beautiful.”

 

“Oh, um…thank you,” Adam muttered, tugging awkwardly on the wig in order to give his hands something to do.

 

“Did you…” Tad mumbled, almost too quiet to hear. “Did Ronan…tell you?”

 

Adam nodded solemnly, biting down on his rose petal lips. He watched as the color drained from Tad’s tan face, his sunken-in face going white, starkly contrasting his red, bloodshot eyes. Tad looked worse than Adam had ever seen him. There were dark circles under his brown eyes and his lips were red and cracked from excessive worrying. At his side, his hands shook. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

 

In the early hours of morning, the truth had come spilling out of Ronan in one giant, heavy wave that had nearly knocked Adam over. Adam had learned of all the missing pieces to the puzzle he’d been trying to put together for weeks, all of the things that hadn’t quite added up. Most importantly, he had learned of Tad’s betrayal. When Ronan broke the news, a brick of crushing anger had settled upon Adam’s lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe. He had been livid for a moment, murderous towards the cowardly boy who had kept him from all the things he loved for so long. But in that moment, with the rage searing his heart, he had never felt more like his father. That thought alone had deflated his anger tremendously and he forced himself to think about it. He had thought and thought and thought until his head was pounding and his eyes had crossed. And he’d come to a conclusion: sometimes, love makes you do crazy things. Adam had learned that lesson thoroughly.

 

“I’m not angry with you, Tad,” Adam sighed, stepping away from the mirrors.

 

“You…you’re not?” Tad stuttered, awestruck and slightly suspicious of Adam, who simply shrugged and shook his head. Tad looked unconvinced. “But I told your-”

 

“Oh, I know what you did,” Adam huffed, leaning back against the counter. “And it isn’t forgotten. After we do this show, you and I are absolutely going to talk about what you did. You could have gotten someone hurt. Do you understand that?”

 

“Yes! I do. I absolutely do,” Tad answered quickly, desperate to appease Adam. He had the good grace to look slightly ashamed of his eagerness when Adam lifted an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry, Adam. What I did…it was-”

 

“Because you love me, I know. Ronan told me,” Adam answered for him, frowning as Tad flinched.

 

“I’m sorry for that, too,” Tad said, making Adam frown even deeper. He put a hand on Tad’s shoulder and squeezed; this was the closest thing to physical affection Adam could give to him. It was all he could give, and still it was not nearly enough for Tad.

 

“Loving is not something to be sorry for, Tad,” Adam murmured quietly as Tad’s honey eyes flicked up to meet his. “It’s the most beautiful thing you can do. I’ve been sorry for so many things in my life…but love? Love isn’t one of them.”

 

“Did Lynch teach you that?” Tad asked. It could have come off as haughty or bitter, but it didn’t. Instead, Tad’s eyes were cast up towards Adam’s, sparking with curiosity and the dire need to _know._

 

“He teaches me that every day,” Adam said. “But it isn’t just him. It’s Gansey and Henry and Blue and Noah. Love comes to you when you aren’t looking for it, but you have to be willing to open your eyes, Tad. Look beyond me. Adopt a wider range of vision. You might find yourself looking at something wonderful.”

 

“I already am,” Tad whispered, his wide eyes set on Adam.

 

Adam gave Tad a crooked half-smile and squeezed his shoulder again. He knew Tad would figure it out in time. “Are you gonna be okay?”

 

“Yeah, I think I am,” Tad said. “Oh, and I’ve talked to my lawyers. They’re going to make sure your dad stays behind bars. For a long time. I mean…if you want that.”

 

A part of Adam bristled, raging against the thought of someone pitying him and treating him like charity. His skin itched from the compulsive need to snap, to snarl and hiss and deny any pity passed his way. But there was a part of him now that was much stronger, a part that recognized what this offer was: a peace offering. A trade off. A plea deal.

 

Well, Adam wasn’t a Gansey, but he could still make a deal. After all, he’d made heavier deals before. He wouldn’t let this one fall prey to his pride.

 

“I might take you up on that,” Adam said, grinning as the life came back to Tad’s eyes.

 

Just then, there was a sharp knock at the door, causing both boys to turn and meet the dangerous smirk of Ronan Lynch. Adam’s face lit up at the sight of him; Tad’s face darkened and fell a bit before rebounding.

 

“Good luck, Adam,” Tad said quietly before excusing himself from the dressing room. Ronan followed his movements with lethal, ice blue eyes before flicking a softer gaze towards Adam.

 

“How much of that did you hear?” Adam asked.

 

“Enough,” Ronan said, forever vague. He made a twirling motion with his index finger, signaling for Adam to turn in a circle. Adam, for once, followed Ronan’s directions, spinning slowly so that Ronan could get a good look. When he came to a stop, a soft, true smile had replaced Ronan’s terrible smirk, setting the butterfly house in Adam’s stomach to life.

 

“It’s safe to say you’re the only person I could ever find attractive in a dress,” Ronan murmured, coming close to wrap his arms around Adam’s taut waist.

 

“I don’t know,” Adam hummed thoughtfully. “Gansey has the legs for it, don’t you think?”  


Ronan’s laughter echoed off the walls as he jabbed Adam playfully in the ribs. The two play fought for a few moments, tickling and teasing and trying to disguise their overly fond expressions before Adam grabbed Ronan by the tunic and kissed the breath off his smiling lips.

 

“Five to places! Circle up, everyone!” Henry roared from outside, breaking the lovers from their trance.

 

“Captain’s orders,” Ronan shrugged, taking Adam’s hand and pulling him from the dressing room.

 

“Alright, gentlemen,” Henry said once everyone had gathered in a circle. “This is it. You boys have been working hard to make this show decent. Now is your time to shine. Remember to breathe, smile and _speak when you have a line._ I’m looking at you, Jason. Alright, boys. Show those ass-hats how it’s done.”

 

Adam and Ronan shared a knowing glance at that, their eyes speaking one word in unison: _excelsior._

 

Henry’s speech received a round of cheers and whoops as the boys dispersed to their respective wings to await the rising of the curtain. Adam felt his gut squeeze with a sudden onslaught of nerves. He’d gone over the show twice in his head during his battle with the razor, but suddenly his mind was void of any clear thought. He was going to bomb.

 

Before Adam could dwell on his negative thoughts too much, he felt a strong grip on his hand, pulling him into an alcove.

 

“Stop that,” Ronan whispered, his lips brushing against Adam’s right ear.

 

“Stop what?”

 

“Stop pulling a Parrish and calm the fuck down,” Ronan growled, taking Adam’s face in his hands. He leaned in closely until they were nearly nose-to-nose, blue eyes locked on blue eyes. “You’re a fucking force, Adam Parrish. Don’t you ever goddamn forget it.”

 

Adam felt his throat thicken with emotion as he stared at Ronan, fierce and unbending in his faith in Adam. His words from earlier echoed in Adam’s mind: _I believe in you._ And the thing was, Adam used to believe in so little, not magic or ghosts or talking forests and especially not himself. But he had seen so much in the passing years, so much that made him _believe._ And now, looking at his reflection sparkling in Ronan’s eyes, he thought that he could probably find it within him to believe in himself too.

 

“I love you,” Adam breathed, pressing his lips against Ronan’s in a searing kiss. The pair held onto each other tightly, despite the curious boys who were staring at them with slack jaws. They didn’t care. Here, together, they were unstoppable. Adam was a force, but when he was with Ronan, they were a natural disaster, a storm so strong that it leaves no survivors.

 

The last few lines before Ronan’s entrance were being spoken, resulting in a few furious, panicked whispers for Ronan to hurry. Adam pushed him towards the stage, grinning at the boy who had somehow, against all the odds, stolen his heart. “Break a leg, or whatever the fuck.”

 

“Fuck off, Parrish,” Ronan grinned. Adam watched, captivated, as Ronan squared his shoulders, glancing back at Adam one more time. Then, with a single breath, Ronan stepped into the light.

 

* * *

 

 

The play was in full speed and Adam could feel the energy being fed to him by the audience. He had them in the palm of his hand, as he’d had his cast for months, just waiting for his next word, his next move, his next _breath._

 

“Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?” Adam spoke in a hushed voice, leaning over to consult with the boy playing the Nurse.

 

“The son and heir of old Tiberio,” The Nurse spoke in a shrill voice.

**“** What's he that now is going out of door?”

**“** Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio.”

 

 **“** What's he that follows there, that would not dance?” Adam pointed towards Ronan, who stood at the other side of the stage looking dashing and luminous under the bright stage lights.

 

 **“** I know not,” The Nurse shrugged.

 

 **“** Go ask his name,” Adam hissed, waiting until the Nurse ran off towards Ronan to say his next line. “If he be married, my grave is like to be my wedding bed.”

 

The Nurse hobbled back Adam’s way. **“** His name is Romeo, and a Montague; The only son of your great enemy.”

 

 **“** My only love sprung from my only hate!” Adam exclaimed off to the side, nearly breaking the fourth wall. “Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.”

 

 **“** What's this?” The Nurse demanded. “What's this?”

 

 **“** A rhyme I learn'd even now of one I danced withal.”

 

 **“** Anon, anon! Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Then, window, let day in, and let life out.,” Adam spoke, drawing open the shutters for Ronan to climb through.

 

“Farewell, farewell!” Ronan bellowed theatrically. “One kiss, and I'll descend.”

 

Adam took Ronan’s face in his hands, plants a bruising kiss on Ronan’s already kiss-bitten lips. He waited, as he did every time, for a snicker in the crowd, a hateful jeer from the mouth of a classmate. It didn’t come. The audience was thoroughly rapt.

  

“Art thou gone so? Love, lord, ay, husband, friend! I must hear from thee every day in the hour, for in a minute there are many days,” Adam gushed, running his delicate fingers through Ronan’s fair forlornly. “O, by this count I shall be much in years ere I again behold my Romeo!”

  

 **“** Farewell!” Ronan said, beginning to climb down the ladder disguised by curling tendrils of vines. “I will omit no opportunity that may convey my greetings, love, to thee.”

 

“O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?” Adam gasped, reaching out towards Ronan, who reached up to brush his fingers against Adam’s.

 

“I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our time to come.”

“O God, I have an ill-divining soul!” Adam cried. “Me thinks I see thee, now thou art below, as one dead in the bottom of a tomb. Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.”

 

“And trust me, love, in my eye so do you,” Ronan called out, already backing away towards the wings. “Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Adam sat up from where he lay, sprawled on the faux stone slab, the audience collectively breathed in a gasp.

 

Ronan lay beside him, still and scarcely breathing with one hand clutching a vial. Adam didn’t look at him yet, but feeling his presence, his comfortable warmth, he felt braver than he thought he would. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He’d never run this scene on stage before.

 

The boy playing Friar Laurence, a flamboyant sophomore named Mike, had just run off the stage when Adam looked down at Ronan at last. There, with the light sharpening his face with shadows and casting him in a golden glow, Ronan looked less like a boy and more like a God.

 

“What's here? A cup, closed in my true love's hand?” Adam asked, prying the vial from Ronan’s hand and holding it up, letting the spotlight gleam off the green glass bottle. “Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop to help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, to make die with a restorative.”

 

Adam leaned down to brush his lips against Ronan’s, gentle and chaste. When he pulled back, he was startled by the wetness in his eyes. Was he…crying?

 

“Thy lips are warm,” Adam croaked out as the first tear fell. Ronan almost imperceptivity flinched beneath him as the teardrop landed on his cheek, but the audience simply sighed, entranced by Adam’s performance. Adam swore he could hear a few scattered sniffles.

 

“Lead, boy. Which way?” One of the ensemble members cried out from the wings.

 

“Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!” Adam cried, snatching the dagger from Ronan’s leather pouch. “This is thy sheath!”

 

Adam slid the dull blade between his arm and his waist, strategically popping the pouch of fake blood hidden under his dress. Henry was nothing if not theatrical.

 

Adam croaked, keeling over with a hand pressed to his bloodied gut. The Dagger dropped with a thud onto the stage and Adam’s glassy eyes met the audience as he delivered his last line.

 

“There rust, and let me die.”

 

Adam collapsed onto Ronan’s body ceremoniously, falling into the crook of his shoulder, where he belonged. He felt drained and exhausted, content to lie there in Ronan’s arms for the rest of the night.

 

And yet, when Ronan and Adam bowed at curtain call, hand in hand as they faced a standing ovation, Adam Parrish had never felt more alive.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Adam and Ronan came out to the lobby of the PAC to see their friends, Gansey was, predictably, crying.

 

“I’m just…so proud,” he cried, pulling Ronan and Adam into a crushing joint hug. Adam grinned as he caught both Noah and Blue rolling their eyes behind Gansey’s back. It lacked the heat it needed to be convincing, as both of them were sporting black smudges under their eyes where their eyeliner had been cried away.

 

“He’s been crying since Ronan walked on stage,” Blue huffed, trying and failing to disguise her fondness.

 

“I thought we were going to get kicked out during the final scene,” Noah mused. “His sobbing was louder than the actors’ voices after Juliet kicked the bucket.”

 

“Leave me be,” Gansey muttered grumpily, rubbing the wetness from his eyes. “I was trying to be a receptive audience member.”

 

“Thank you, Gansey,” Adam smiled, clapping his best friend on the back.

 

“Well, gentlemen,” Henry said, coming up behind Ronan and Adam. “You killed it, as anticipated.”

 

Adam grinned at Henry, taking the bouquet of roses he had bought from Noah’s hands and laying the fragrant flowers in Henry’s arms.

 

“For me?” Henry beamed, looking down at the flowers in awe.

 

“They’re for the best director around,” Adam said.

 

“Yeah, yeah. Couldn’t have done it without you, Cheng,” Ronan muttered begrudgingly, groaning as Henry squeezed him in a tight hug.

 

“So…Ninos?” Gansey asked, receiving a chorus of vaguely affirmative sounds.

 

The group headed towards the parking lot where the Pig and the BMW sat amongst the most expensive cars money could buy. Ronan had skipped ahead of Adam in favor of putting Blue in a firm headlock and Adam was watching the exchange when he felt someone fall into step beside him.

 

 “So, I guess the game is over, huh?” J.C. smirked, his mischievous eyes set on Ronan’s back.

 

“Excuse me?” Adam said.

 

“You won the prize,” J.C. said, nodding towards Ronan. “He’s crazy about you. You won him fair and square.”

 

“Did you think this was a competition?” Adam asked, barking a surprised laugh. J.C. nearly tripped over his own feet as Adam lurched to a stop, grabbing the boy’s polo shirt in his fist and pulling him close. “You can’t compete where you don’t compare. Or did they not teach that in whatever _dark hole_ it was you crawled out of?”

 

J.C. gaped at Adam’s use of his own words, blinking in shock as Adam smoothed his polo shirt down with gentle fingers and patted him on the chest. “Better luck next time.”

 

As Adam rejoined the group, he felt a hand slip into his own. He looked over and caught Ronan’s eye, glinting with amusement and faint shock. He’d obviously overheard the whole conversation with J.C. Adam distantly wondered whether or not he should feel ashamed of being petty, but Ronan’s proud grin was answer enough for him.

  

“Will you ever stop surprising me?” Ronan asked, wrapping an arm around Adam’s shoulders.

 

Adam looked up into Ronan’s eyes and in them, he found everything he’d ever been missing in life. There, in the pale blue irises, there was a promise. A promise of warmth, a promise of love, a promise of home, home, _home._

 

Adam grinned up at Ronan and gave his own promise. “I sure hope not.”  


 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWWWWWWWWWWW TBT
> 
>  
> 
> Leave me some comments and let me know what you think! Also, let me know what you'd like to see next! xx
> 
>  
> 
> Also, if you like this story, please read my new fic, I'll Be Seeing You, which you can find here: 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/13448205/chapters/30824337


	12. Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WANTED TO POST THIS ON VALENTINES DAY BECAUSE IT'S FLUFFY GOODNESS BUT I MISSED IT. 
> 
> Here it is, y'all. The end of an era. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for your constant love and support. Writing this fic has been so much fun. 
> 
> I thought you guys deserved so shameless fluff after what I've put you through. Here you go.

 

 

Adam blinked languidly into consciousness that Sunday morning with the vague recognition of a light tapping sound coming from the large balcony doors to his right.

 

Adam sat up in bed, letting the blankets fall around his waist as he reintroduced himself to the waking world. It had been a late night of garage work and driving and kissing the night before and he was sure it had to be almost noon. The sunlight warmed his bare skin as he slipped out of bed, wrapping a comforter around his naked form before going to investigate the strange tapping noise.

 

Pebbles. One, two, three of them hit the glass doors in succession, thrown too lightly to shatter the window but also hard enough to make a soft thump as it hit the door. Adam couldn’t fight the grin stretching across his face as he pulled open the doors, stepping out into the morning air to lean over the balcony railing.

 

“A bit cliché, don’t you think?” Adam teased, staring down at a very shirtless, very sweaty, very smug Ronan Lynch.

 

“I was going for romantic, Parrish,” Ronan drawled, mock offense plastered across his face. “I didn’t hit the mark?”

 

“You hit it, alright,” Adam huffed a laugh, rolling his eyes fondly.

 

“Better get your ass up, baby,” Ronan said cheerfully. “We’ve got guests coming over in a few hours.”

 

“Gansey, Blue and Cheng are hardly guests,” Adam said. “They can wait for me to be well rested.”

 

“Adam _Parrish._ My mother is rolling in her grave at the lack of hospitality,” Ronan gasped theatrically. “You’re the new matriarch of the house now, Parrish. You better pull your shit together.”

 

“Oi, why am I the woman of the house?” Adam sputtered indignantly at Ronan’s blatant teasing, trying to ignore the warmth blossoming in his chest. He was slowly but surely getting used to the domesticity of his new life at the barns. He had moved in at the start of the summer, figuring that renewing a lease for an apartment he was hardly ever at was wasteful. Adam Parrish was nothing if not practical, after all. Besides, it didn’t hurt waking up in a warm bed every morning, skin to skin with the person who loved him most in the world.

 

“You wore the dress, didn’t you?” Ronan smirked, shrugging his bare shoulders. Adam bit his lip, remembering how Ronan had nearly ripped that dress off of him after the closing night of Romeo and Juliet. It was only supposed to be a one-night engagement, but the donors had begged for an encore performance. Adam hadn’t minded. He spent every night falling in love with Ronan anyway. He figured he might as well get some extra credit out of it.

 

“I certainly did,” Adam grinned lazily, letting the comforter slide off one bare shoulder and delighting in the sudden hunger in Ronan’s blue eyes.

 

“Adam are you… _naked_ under that blanket?” Ronan asked mischievously, inching closer to the balcony with the intent to catch a glimpse from between the folds. Before he got the chance, Adam pulled the blanket closer, turning back towards the bedroom.

 

“You’ll just have to come up here and find out for yourself, won’t you?” Adam drawled, not bothering to shut the doors behind him as he let the blanket drop to his feet. The sound of the front door slamming loudly and Ronan’s heavy footfalls on the stairs were enough to have Adam grinning like a madman by the time Ronan burst through the door to the master bedroom.

 

Sated and sticky and smiling like idiots, Ronan and Adam lay on their backs, panting wildly on the bed after an hour of strenuous cardio. Adam felt like he’d left his body completely, as was usually the case when he was post-coital with Ronan. It had taken a while and extensive practice, but they had figured out each other’s bodies so completely that sex felt like an other-worldly experience lately.

 

“Jesus, Mary, shit, _fuck_ ,” Ronan sighed happily, twining his fingers together with Adam’s.

 

“Yeah, same,” Adam huffed, bringing their hands up to his mouth for a kiss. “Have I told you I love you today?”

 

“Eight times in the last thirty minutes,” Ronan grinned.

 

“I love you,” Adam whispered anyway.

 

“Nine,” Ronan said against his lips, and as Ronan rolled on top of him, his beautiful lips trailing across Adam’s jaw, Adam thought he might just be able to live like that for the rest of his goddamn life.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I can’t believe he brought him to my fucking _house_ ,” Ronan growled from beside Adam, his fierce glare fixed on the traitor and his unwelcomed guest.

 

“Oh, come on,” Adam said, patting Ronan on the back placating as he stared at Henry and Tad from across the fire pit Ronan had dragged them all out to sit around after dinner. “Tad isn’t so bad.”  


“Isn’t so bad?” Ronan stuttered softly, not quite enough of an asshole to be bashing Carruthers at a high volume. “May I remind you of a certain incident with a show flyer and your father’s mailbox-”

 

“You know he apologized for that,” Adam frowned, glaring at his increasingly hostile boyfriend. “Henry really seems to like him, Ro. He says he’s different in private. Besides, without Tad’s lawyers, my father wouldn’t be behind bars for the next twenty years.”

 

“Long may he rot,” Ronan cheered, his mood lifted by the thought of Robert Parrish suffering, lifting his beer in a mocking toast. “I hope he drops the fucking soap.”

 

“You and me both, baby,” Adam said, clinking the neck of his bottle against Ronan’s. The brisk breeze of a Virginia summer evening glided across his skin, raising the goosebumps in its wake. Adam snuggled closer to Ronan, who wrapped an arm lazily around his shoulders so Adam could tuck himself closer.

 

“You cold, love?” Ronan whispered, suddenly so much softer than he had been only moments ago. Adam shrugged one shoulder, the closest thing to an admission as he would give, and that was enough for Ronan.

 

“Hey!” Gansey squawked indignantly as Ronan yanked at one of the many blankets Gansey had wrapped around his shoulders.

 

“Piss off, Dick, my boyfriend’s cold and you’re hogging all the blankets,” Ronan huffed, draping the flannel blanket around Adam lovingly while ignoring his best friend’s lecture on the importance of tact. Ronan kissed Adam softly on the forehead, gazing at him in the world-tilting way that made Adam feel like he was the center of the universe. To Ronan, he was.

 

“Get a fucking room,” Henry gagged, his arm thrown haphazardly around Tad, who looked a bit awkward in his surroundings but was smiling all the same.

 

“You started this, Henry,” Blue said from her place on Gansey’s lap. “You cast them in that damn show and gave them an excuse to fawn all over each other.”

 

“My apologies, Wendy bird,” Henry sighed, leaning closer to Tad.

 

“I think they’re cute!” Noah cheered, appearing suddenly behind Tad and igniting a chorus of startled screams. Tad fell off his chair, pulling Henry down after him.

 

“Jesus, man, I didn’t even hear you come up behind me,” Tad gasped.

 

“Yeah, he’s good at that,” said Blue.

 

Adam looked around the circle of people he loved so much. Years ago, when he had been holed up in that dark trailer, his stomach empty and his bones aching, he had dreamed of having a place to call home, one that held all of the warmth and love he had been missing under his father’s roof. But as he looked around him then, at the vast and unending fields, at the barns in all its glory, at the people who knew the deepest depths of his heart, he knew he needed to look no further. He had found home in the most unsuspected place and his heart was filled with light, light, _light._

 

“Hey,” Ronan whispered, squeezing Adam’s shoulders lightly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

 

Adam smiled and shook his head, his nose brushing Ronan’s lightly. “I’m thinking about how I love my life.”

 

Ronan smiled that sweet, soft smile that was reserved for Adam alone. It never failed to make Adam’s skin tingle and his heart flutter like a bird in his chest. Ronan leaned in close until their mouths were just centimeters away from each other.

 

“Follow me,” Ronan whispered, unwrapping himself from Adam and holding out a hand for him to take. Adam slid his cold hand into Ronan’s warm one, ready to follow him anywhere.

 

“Hey, where are you two going?” Gansey asked.

 

“To fuck. Wanna join, Dick?” Ronan said, sarcasm oozing off his tongue. Still, despite the blatant joke, Gansey blushed a deep crimson.

 

“Be safe,” he muttered over the sounds of Blue and Henry’s cackling.

 

Ronan pulled Adam through the field, the moonlight lighting their way as they slipped into the woods behind the barns. From the barns, you could see every star, every constellation, every crater in the moon. It was almost as if Niall Lynch had dreamed a sky just for his family.

 

“Close your eyes,” Ronan whispered, cupping his hands over Adam’s eyes. It was awkward and slightly uncomfortable to walk like that, shuffling together through an unknown terrain, but when Ronan pulled his hands away, Adam found it was well worth it. A sharp breath lodged in his throat as he tried to fight off the emotion that was choking him.

 

“It’s like-”

 

“The retreat,” Ronan said, staring out at the small pond from his place on the small dock. “I know. I found it a few days ago when one of the goats wandered off. I’ve been waiting to show you.”

 

Adam was speechless as Ronan tugged him over to sit at the edge of the dock, yanking his converse off for him so he could dip his toes in the cool, dark water.

 

“This is…you are…” Adam started, but found himself without the words. So instead, he said, “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” Ronan said, threading his fingers with Adam’s as he stared out at the pond. They sat there in peaceful silence for some time, watching the water ripple as fish and turtles swam to the surface. It felt like hours before Adam spoke again.

 

“I have something to show you,” Adam said, reaching into his back pocket for the folded slip of paper his had hastily put there earlier that day. He handed the paper to Ronan, watching as the boy unfolded it and let his eyes scan the letter.

 

“I already know you’re going to Yale, love. We had a big party and everything, remember?” Ronan said, earning a playful shove from Adam.

 

“That’s not what you’re meant to be looking at. Here,” Adam said, pointing at the top of the paper. “Intended major-”

 

“Theatre,” Ronan read, his eyes darting up to find Adam’s. “You’re going to the Yale Drama School?”

 

“I sent in that video Gansey took of the play. I wasn’t expecting anything but I guess they liked-”

 

Adam was cut off as Ronan wrapped him in a suffocating hug, squeezing him so tightly he saw stars.

 

“Babe- oxygen- can’t- _breathe-_ ”

 

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Adam,” Ronan grinned, letting him go at last. “You’re absolutely incredible.”

 

“I’m nothing without you,” Adam said without thinking, shocked by the heavy truth of that statement. He could have all of the fame and money and knowledge in the world, but without Ronan’s perfect and fierce love, it would all be worthless. “I’m glad I kissed you on that dock.”

 

“So am I,” Ronan breathed, pulling Adam in by the chin so that their noses were brushing together. “That kiss changed my fucking life.”

 

“We’ve got one crazy ass love story, Lynch,” Adam laughed, his lips brushing against Ronan’s. The other boy’s blue eyes sparkled.

 

“Tell me about it,” Ronan grinned. “Romeo and Juliet have nothing on us.”

 

Adam was inclined to agree. It had been a long, winding road to where they were. There were ups and downs, tears and laughter, heartache and love. Their love story was not a perfect one, was not meant to be seen on a stage or hailed as one of the great love stories of all time. But as Ronan finally pressed his lips to his own, Adam found that he wouldn’t change it for the world.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT'S IT! 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for sticking with this crazy story. I've loved every minute of writing it. 
> 
> Leave me some comments and let me know what else you guys want to see from me, weather it be specific prompts or one-shots or AU's, I'm here to please! Also, make sure you browse my other fics!!! xx
> 
> Love you guys!


	13. Encore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bonus chapter and a glimpse into Adam's college career!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS THOUGHT THIS WAS OVER!!!!
> 
> I've been meaning to do this for a little while now and only just got around to it. I hope you guys enjoy! Leave me a comment!

 

“A musical?!”

 

Ronan nearly dropped the phone when he heard those words cascade from his boyfriend’s lips. Blue looked up from her perch on the porch where she was crocheting a tiny scarf for Chainsaw with nimble fingers. Ronan composed himself enough to wave away her concern before stalking up the porch steps and into the cool house to resume his call.

 

“You heard me, Lynch,” Adam sighed exasperatedly on the other line. Ronan could imagine him sitting at his desk in his impossibly small dorm room, his eyes wedged shut as two slim fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. God, Ronan missed him.

 

“I’m sorry, this is too much. You’re going to have to repeat it a few times before it fully registers,” Ronan grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter.

 

“Don’t be a dick,” Adam growled, his voice filled with frustration and, as always, a hint of fondness. “It’s not like I meant for this to happen.”

 

“How did it happen? You don’t sing, Parrish,” Ronan said.

 

“I know, I know,” Adam sighed. “When you audition for collegiate shows, you audition once for everything. I don’t get any say in what I get cast in.”

 

“But you can turn it down, can’t you?” Ronan asked, watching out the window as Blue began to wrap her now finished scarf around an indignant Chainsaw’s neck.

 

“I can, but I won’t,” Adam said. “It’s miraculous that I even got cast. I’m a freshman. That never happens.”

 

“Oh, it’s not that miraculous, Parrish,” Ronan huffed. “You’re magical on stage. You sell yourself short.”

 

Adam huffed a fond breath, ever speechless when it came to Ronan’s spontaneous words of praise. After nearly an entire year with the boy, Ronan could still make his breath catch with just a smile or a word. To Adam, that was the real magic.

 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see if you still think that after you see the show,” Adam said, grinning despite himself.

 

“Oh, I’m sure I will,” Ronan said. “So, what’s the show?”

 

“Oh…um…you probably haven’t heard of it.”

 

Ronan bristled a bit at this. “Don’t consider me so uncultured, Adam. Come on, what is it?”

 

“It’s called Les Misérables.”

 

Crickets.

 

“Lay Mister what?” Ronan said. Adam had been correct in his assumption that Ronan, whose music taste stretched only as far as his shitty EDM and the old Celtic records in his dad’s office would take him, wouldn’t know the musical. Figures.

 

“Les Misérables,” Adam chuckled smugly. “It’s French. Super old and super well-known, apparently.”

 

“Sounds like a snore,” Ronan said. “I can’t wait to see it.”

 

“Yeah, it’s completely told through singing, so it might be. I won’t know until my first rehearsal on Monday.”

 

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Adam,” Ronan said. Adam couldn’t help the fierce and brilliant smile that split across his face as he clutched his phone closer.

 

“I love you, Ronan,” Adam sighed.

 

“I love you, too,” Ronan said. “And I miss you so goddamn much.”

 

“Two weeks. I’m home in two weeks, baby,” Adam choked. Missing Ronan was such a visceral thing, so strong and so utterly impossible to shake that sometimes he wondered if he’d die from it. Ronan wondered the same as he dug his fingertips into the marble countertop, trying to hold back the slew of sentimental word-vomit threatening to spill past his lips.

 

“I can’t wait,” Ronan said, his voice nearly a whisper. “I’ll talk to you soon, superstar.”

 

“Bye, Ro,” Adam said and then, like a true magician, he was gone.

 

Ronan stood there, staring out the window with his phone still clutched in a vice-like grip, for what felt like hours. He looked out at the sky, a blue so like that of Adam’s eyes that it made him want to cry, and thought about the boy who was miles and miles away and yet, somehow, so close to his heart.

 

Footsteps startled him out of his daydreams. He turned to find Blue, staring at him with those mother-hen eyes she had inherited from Gansey. She catalogued the tears in his eyes, the ones he was too proud to acknowledge, and her mouth quirked downwards. Gansey had left for Harvard three weeks earlier, and she, too, knew that same visceral sense of longing that Ronan did.

 

And so she said, “want to go light shit on fire?”

 

Ronan grinned, so grateful for this friend he never thought he’d have. “Let me find the blowtorch.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan opened his eyes two weeks later to a sight that never failed to take his breath away.

 

Adam was still sleeping, his dust-colored lashes fanning across those freckle-kissed cheeks as he snored so softly it almost sounded like music to Ronan. Adam watched his back rise and fall with every breath, marveling in the magic that was Adam Parrish. His heart soared with love for the beautiful, exhausted boy.

 

Adam had arrived home the night before, exhausted but grinning as he watched Ronan run out of the house. He had met him half-way, leaping into his arms, the perfect picture of the past as he stood there, clinging to Ronan like a life-line. Even though they were exhausted, Adam from the drive and Ronan from a restless day in the fields, they had still made love until they ached from it and then promptly fell asleep, naked and sated and wrapped up in one another.

 

Adam’s eyelids fluttered as he began to wake, taking in the world around him. He startled a bit when he saw Ronan watching him, forgetting for a moment where he was, but when he remembered, his smile was bright enough to light the whole goddamn sky.

“I thought it was a dream,” Adam shyly admitted, stroking Ronan’s cheek with the back of his hand.

 

“You’re awake,” Ronan smiled, pulling the boy close to him.

 

“That’s my line,” Adam whispered just before Ronan kissed him, sweet and chaste and full of love. They kissed for what seemed like seconds and hours at the same time before Adam forced himself to pull away.

 

“I’m gross,” Adam said. “Long car rides and sweaty sex don’t make for a good aroma combination.”

 

“Yeah, I’d have to agree,” Ronan joked, earning himself a smack on the shoulder. “Go take a shower. I’ll make some coffee.”

 

“Oh, will you make breakfast, too?” Adam said, batting his eyelashes. Ronan rolled his eyes, but his concession was clear. Adam beamed and kissed him on the cheek before bounding out of bed and into the bathroom. “Thank you, babe.”

 

“Don’t get used to it,” Ronan huffed, fighting back a grin as he got up to start on breakfast.

 

Once the coffee was finished brewing and he had mixed the pancake batter, he started back up the stairs with Adam’s coffee. He had done this every morning while Adam lived with him, leaving the steaming coffee in a dream-mug that never let its contents cool by Adam’s bedside before starting his chores outside at the crack of dawn. It was something so small and unnecessary, and yet it made Adam smile and gave him a few extra minutes in bed, so he did it relentlessly until Adam left for school.

 

He set the mug down on the bedside table and quickly made the bed while Adam was still showering. He could hear the spray of the water through the door as he puttered about. Just as he was about to go downstairs to start the pancakes, he heard the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

 

_“_ _A heart full of love, a heart full of song. I'm doing everything all wrong. Oh God, for shame! I do not even know your name, dear mademoiselle. Won't you say? Will you tell?”_

 

It took Ronan a moment to realize that that sound, the sweet and melodic sound, was coming from Adam. He was singing. And his singing…God, Ronan didn’t even know how to describe it. It was light and beautiful, but strong at the same time. How had Ronan gone his whole life without hearing that voice? Ronan found himself once again speechless at the sheer brilliance of his boyfriend. Was there anything he _couldn’t_ do?

 

Ronan startled as the sound of water splashing against skin went silent as Adam cut the water. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping on Adam’s singing, Ronan hurried out of the bedroom and down the stairs before Adam could come out of the bathroom.

 

Adam came down fifteen minutes later, Ronan was bent determinedly over the skillet, making pancakes in the shape of penises, as was tradition. Adam leaned over his shoulder and barked a laugh, planting a kiss on Ronan’s neck.

 

“Dork,” Adam chuckled before going over to the table to read the morning paper. Ronan didn’t hand him a pancake, telling him to “eat a dick, Parrish,” as he had every other time he did this. Instead, he flipped a pancake, stared at the dark skillet and thought that somehow, after all this time, Adam was still finding ways to make Ronan fall even more in love.

 

* * *

 

 

“So what role did you say you’re playing in this show?”

 

The question startled Adam, who had thought Ronan was still dozing on his lap as he studied his music. He looked up from his songbook to find two icy blue eyes looking up at him curiously.

 

“Marius Pontmercy,” Adam said. “He’s a young revolutionary who falls in love with the adopted daughter of the main character.”

 

Ronan knew this. He had stayed awake for hours the night before, researching the musical and listening to the Broadway soundtrack while Adam slept soundly beside him…but he wasn’t about to admit that.

 

“Hmm,” Ronan hummed, feigning ignorance.

 

“He can be an idiot sometimes, but he has a good heart,” Adam shrugged, looking back to his page. There was silence, only for a few minutes, before Ronan broke it once again.

 

“So, do you like being in the musical?” Ronan asked.

 

“Yeah, it’s fun,” Adam said, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Why?”

 

“Just wondering,” Ronan said. Adam looked like he wanted to ask him another question, but before he could, Ronan plucked the songbook from his grasp and grabbed his hands, pulling him off the couch.

 

“Come on, Parrish. You leave tomorrow and my bed isn’t broken yet,” Ronan grinned, tugging him up the stairs. “We have work to do.”

 

And when had Adam ever turned down a challenge like that?

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sun was setting over the fields, casting the land in an orange glow as Adam and Ronan pressed their foreheads together, their hands knotted in one another’s as they tried to find the words to say goodbye. The weekend had been magical and lovely and so fucking short. Adam had put off leaving as much as he could, but it was time for him to get back on the road.

 

“Remember to call Mr. Hendricks about the gate on the edge of the property,” Adam reminded Ronan. “And stop into Boyd’s one day this week. I don’t like the sound your engine is making.”

 

“Stop worrying, Parrish,” Ronan huffed fondly. “I will.”

 

Adam bit his bottom lip, his eyes searching Ronan’s. “You’re coming to see the show?”

 

“I’ve got my plane ticket booked already,” Ronan assured him. “Nothing could stop me from seeing you prance around that stage singing your heart out, Parrish.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Adam said, but he was laughing and so was Ronan and the sound filled the air like a song. It took a few moments for them to sober, Adam pulling Ronan into a fierce embrace. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

 

“So soon,” Ronan whispered, pressing a kiss to Adam’s hair. “I’ll be there so soon, you won’t even have time to miss me.”

 

“I find that hard to believe,” Adam murmured, his voice thick as he pressed a kiss to Ronan’s neck. “I love you, Lynch.”

 

“I love you more, Parrish,” Ronan said, kissing his fiercely on the lips. With great effort, he pulled back and smiled at his boy, trying to give him as much reassurance as possible. “Call me when you get home safe.”

 

“I will,” Adam sighed, pecking Ronan on the cheek once more before getting into his shitbox and starting the engine. He looked up at Ronan, his blue eyes glistening. “See you soon, Ro.”

 

“Bye, Adam.”

 

Ronan stood on the porch, watching as the shitbox carried the boy he loves away from him once again. Only when the car disappeared between the trees did he allow the first tear to fall. _Four more weeks_ , Ronan reminded himself as he quietly let himself back into the house.

 

That night, there was no music at the Barns. There was only silence, heavy and pressing and cold as Ronan went to sleep alone.

 

__

* * *

 

 

Adam was exhausted.

 

Adam prided himself on his ability to do it all. After all, he had worked two jobs in addition to maintaining a rigorous course schedule at Aglionby while also hunting for dead Welsh kings in his spare time. He hadn’t anticipated that college would be that different, seeing as he took less classes and didn’t have to work or trudge through caves anymore. But Adam had been so terribly wrong. In fact, he was more tired than he had ever been. After six consecutive hours of classes followed by a five-hour tech rehearsal, the man was about to pass out. But Adam still had a paper to do and three online quizzes to complete before the next day, when he would do it all over again. He felt a pulsing behind his right eye as he opened up his laptop with shaking fingers.

 

The Skype call popped up as Adam was beginning the second paragraph of his paper. Ronan’s name on the screen was something that usually filled Adam’s heart with joy, but as he answered the call that night, he was gritting his teeth in frustration.

 

“Hi Lynch, I can’t talk,” Adam said curtly once Ronan’s face came into view. The grin that had been on his boyfriend’s face promptly disappeared.

 

“Jesus, Parrish, you look like hell,” Ronan said.

 

“Gee, _thanks_ babe,” Adam bit out, his scowl a terrifying thing. Ronan’s handsome featured dipped into a frown.

 

“Cool it, Parrish,” Ronan warned. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”

 

“No, I’m not fucking _okay_ ,” Adam grunted in frustration. “I’ve been running around all day trying to get things done. I had rehearsal and class and now I have homework and I _really_ do not need you bothering me.”

 

Ronan reared back as if Adam had slapped him, his face crumpling with hurt. “Well if I bother you so much, maybe I shouldn’t come up to see your show. I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

 

“Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t,” Adam snapped. As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. The look of pain on Ronan’s face made his blood go cold in his veins. “Ro-”

 

But Ronan was already gone, the Skype icon informing his that the call had been disconnected. He dialed Ronan again, and then when he didn’t pick up, he dialed again. By his eighth call, he pushed the computer away from him, a knot forming in his throat. He thought of Ronan, all alone at the Barns, hurting and so far away. He’d done that. He’d caused that.

 

He finished his homework and went to bed, ignoring the dampness of his tear-soaked pillow as he slipped into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

 

Adam sat in front of the dressing room mirror, trying half-heartedly to will his hair into submission. He was dressed in his costume, grey trousers and a blue overcoat that covered a blousy period shirt. At least it’s not a dress, he mused as he tied his ascot. But then he thought of Ronan and the small smile dropped off his face.

 

He hadn’t heard from his boyfriend since the fated Skype call. He had called every night, praying that Ronan would pick up so he could tell him how sorry he was, but the call always went to voicemail. Adam had hurt Ronan so badly that he was ignoring his calls. His stomach ached at the thought.

 

“Time for your microphone, Adam,” said Vanessa, the sound tech who was tasked with helping the cast effectively hide their microphones in their hairline. Adam took off the overcoat so Vanessa could latch the mic onto his trousers and feed it up his back and into his hair.

 

“Are you ready for opening night?” Vanessa grinned. Adam really liked Vanessa. She was one of the only people in the cast or crew that treated Adam as a peer instead of the little freshman who stole their spotlight.

 

“As ready as I can be,” Adam sighed as she taped the mic down.

 

“Ronan still hasn’t called?”

 

Adam shook his head. “I don’t think he’s coming. I can’t blame him.”

 

“I’m sure he’ll come, Adam,” Vanessa assured him, patting him on the shoulder comfortingly. “He sounds like a good guy.”

 

“He’s the best,” Adam smiled. “You’d like him.”

 

“Well then, I can’t wait to meet him after the show,” Vanessa smiled, her tone oozing with finality. “Break a leg, Adam. You’re on in five.”

 

“Thanks, Vanessa,” Adam said. Once Vanessa left the dressing room, Adam turned back to the mirror, staring at his reflection. He thought back to his senior year, when he had showed up last minute to play Juliet. He remembered the way Ronan had held him in the wings, fierce and loving and completely confidant in Adam.

 

 _Please show up_ , Adam thought. _I know I don’t deserve you, but I need you here tonight._

His phoned suddenly buzzed with a notification. It was from Gansey, a picture of the stage with a text below that read, “break a leg!”

 

Adam was disappointed that it wasn’t from Ronan until he noticed it: a hand in the lower right corning of the picture, resting on a dark-washed, jean-clad knee. It was a familiar hand, one that he had held enough times to recognize it anywhere, and on the wrist it was connected to was an assortment of chewed up leather bands.

 

“He’s here,” Adam whispered.

 

“Adam, you’re on!” a stage hand called. Adam looked into the mirror once more, a brilliant smile on his face.

 

 _Let’s do this_ , he thought before making his way towards the stage.

 

* * *

 

 

Ronan and Gansey sat there as the lights came up in the theater, similar looks of shock on both of their faces.

 

“Wow,” Gansey said, ineloquent for once in his life.

 

“I fucking know, right?” Ronan grinned.

 

“Did you know he could do that?” Gansey asked.

 

“To some extent, but…not like that.”

 

Adam’s performance had been life-changing. The emotion he brought to Marius was unmatched by his co-stars. Gansey and Ronan both had tears streaming down their faces as he sang “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables” with anguish making his voice rough and heartbreaking. And God, that _voice._ His voice was like an angel’s, and Ronan knew that wasn’t just his boyfriend bias speaking because halfway through the one of Adam’s songs, the college girl next to him leaned over to her friends and said, “I wouldn’t mind him singing me to sleep at night.”

 

Ronan has elbowed her at curtain call, but was inclined to agree.

 

“Are you Ronan?”

 

Ronan turned to find a redheaded girl with a bright smile and all-black clothing looking down at him. She had a set of headphones around her neck and an apron wrapped around her waist.

 

“I’m Vanessa. I’m a friend of Adam’s,” she said. “You can follow me.”

 

Ronan followed the girl through the back hallways of the Yale Repertory Theater, passing actors dressed in period clothing and clutching flowers. Ronan was holding Adam’s flowers, a dreamed bouquet of blue lilies, in his sweaty hand.

 

Vanessa stopped at one of the doors at the end of the hallway, turning to smile at Ronan before knocking. “Adam! I’ve got somewhere here to see you!”

 

The door whipped open and a hand immediately yanked Ronan into the room, shutting the door behind him. Suddenly Adam was there in his arms, holding him in a fierce embrace.

 

“I’m so sorry, Ronan. I’m so sorry,” Adam kept whispering, over and over again into Ronan’s collarbones.

 

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” Ronan murmured, squeezing Adam to his chest. He knew then he was cruel to have ignored Adam all week. The boy was trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry, too.”

 

“I’m so happy that you came,” Adam said, pulling back to smile brightly at him.

 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ronan said. “Adam, you were…breathtaking. You were born for this.”

 

Adam’s smile was blinding as he leaned into Ronan, pressing his lips to his in a harsh kiss. “I love you.”

 

Ronan smiled down at him, in awe of this captivating boy in his arms. “I love you, too.”

 

Adam took his hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, his eyes sparkling as they met Ronan’s.

 

“Let’s go back to mine,” Adam grinned. “I want to see if I can take your breath away again, Lynch.”

 

And when had Ronan ever turned down a challenge like that?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHH LEAVE ME COMMENTS

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! Leave me comments!
> 
> P.S.: if y'all followed me on tumblr, I'd forever love you. I'm trying to get better at it.  
> https://sleepwithease.tumblr.com/


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